Godric's Hollow, 1899
by Remy-Luna
Summary: I know this has been done before, and possibly by writers more talented than myself, but since it hasn't been done by JKR, I figured why not have my own take? This is the story of Albus Dumbledore and the summer he met Gellert Grindelwald and lost everything. Some slash, but my goal is to keep it as close to canon as possible. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I've always felt that this story was one of the many in the HP universe that wasn't quite complete, that had left some blank spaces. This fanfic is my attempt to fill them. As such, I'm deviating slightly from my norm and trying to keep to canon. I've checked the wiki and Pottermore and the books while writing and I think I've done a decent job. There is a bit of slash, both Dumbledore/Grindelwald and Dumbledore/Doge, but while nothing in canon says that there was ever any romance between Dumbledore and Doge, there was also nothing in canon that says there wasn't, so it didn't feel like I was breaking canon to include it. The story is already complete, so I will not leave anyone hanging. It is about 30,000 words total, divided into 12 chapters with a very brief epilogue. I appreciate any feedback, positive or negative (I'm also good about responding if you're signed in, especially if you have questions), and I do sincerely apologize if I've seriously deviated from canon in any way. I hope this will be as fun for you to read as it's been for me to write.

 **Chapter 1**

The two teenage wizards pored over the map in front of them. The taller of the two took notes on some parchment with his favorite quill while the other jabbered on, tapping the map with his wand so it focused on different cities, causing it to display the name and list highlights of the area.

"I really think we should leave Europe 'til last, Al. I mean, obviously there's tons of history here and I really want to see Spain and Italy especially, but I fear we'd rush through it if we did Europe first. We can see Europe any old time—I want to see the world! How different can French wizards be from us, really? But the Chinese Empire, Arabia, India! Not to mention Africa. I was thinking we might start with Egypt, then we can kind of…go around. Do you want to go directly to Asia after that, or should we go through Russia first? It's summer, so I bet it'd be really hot in the southern countries…"

"South America, too," the other one cut in. "Perhaps we should leave that to last, before Europe. It should at least be autumn by then. Although that might mean it's winter before we get to Scandinavia, but we'll figure it out as we go along. That's half the fun of it, Elf. Not knowing where you're going 'til you get there. All we need to figure out tonight is where to start, where we're going tomorrow. I'm quite anxious to go to Greece, I think we should start there. After we've gone through Greece, we can go down to Tripoli and then go round Africa, finishing up in Egypt. How's that sound?"

"All right, then," Elphias said cheerfully. He tapped the map with his wand again, and this time it rolled into a tight scroll before soaring across the room and landing in the open bag leaning against the bedpost.

Albus watched its progress. He gave his own wand a small flourish, and his parchment and quill followed the map, taking a slight turn so they landed in his own bag, which was next to Elphias's. "Perhaps we should turn in," he suggested, glancing at the clock on the stone wall. "It's not that late, but we want an early start tomorrow, don't we?"

Elphias grinned. "I can't remember when I've been this excited. When I got my Hogwarts letter, perhaps, but then my bout of dragon pox ruined the experience of actually going. I just knew all the other children would ignore me or make fun of me. Which, of course, they all did. Except you, Albus," he reminded his friend, his eyes growing warm as they settled on him.

Albus smiled back. "I remember," he said. "And you were the only one who didn't care about what my father did to those Muggles—you knew that wasn't a reflection on me. You were willing to be my friend anyway."

"I didn't have a choice, did I?" Elphias laughed. "You were the only one willing to come within 10 feet of me. I'm glad it was you though," he said sincerely, his hand floating across the table to briefly squeeze a couple of Albus's fingers. "You know," he added, "it isn't really…that late." His gray-blue eyes sparkled at his friend's for a quick moment before he got up and crossed the room.

The door was open to the corridor, and voices from the bar several stories below drifted up the stairs to their room. Elphias closed the door softly, and the voices were silent at once. In a single moment, the boys had gone from patrons in a highly crowded inn to two young people who were quite alone. Elphias's eyes didn't leave Albus's as he deliberately turned the key in the lock before removing it.

Albus rose from his seat, feeling his young heart begin to pound in his chest. He'd been expecting this, known it was coming. This wasn't the first time the two teenagers had been alone together, with a bed before them and a night that could stretch on forever.

Elphias returned to the table and stepped up to Albus, putting one hand on his waist and lifting the other so his fingers ran through the red-brown hair. His eyes stared into Albus's eyes as the taller boy wrapped his arms around Elphias's waist.

The kiss was initiated by Elphias, though Albus returned it. Kissing Elf was familiar, comforting. A reminder that among the scores of wizards that respected and admired him (despite his young age), there was one who truly loved him.

The kiss deepened, and Elphias's grip tightened in Albus's hair. Albus ran his hands up and down the back of Elphias's robes. Elphias's hand had crept around Albus's waist to his back underneath his robes, only the thin fabric of his shirt separating skin from skin. Albus allowed this. He enjoyed the tingle that went up his spine with the pressure of Elphias's fingernails. However, when the shorter boy started to untuck the tail of Albus's shirt from his trousers, Albus broke the kiss and stepped back.

"What's the matter?" Elphias asked, slightly breathless from the intensity of kissing.

"Not tonight, Elf," Albus said.

"What?" Elphias said, looking momentarily disillusioned. Then he stepped close again, replacing his hands on his friend's waist. "Albus," he crooned, kissing his face and then his mouth again. "Why not?" he breathed in his ear. "What could be a better way to start our trip together?"

"I want to wait," Albus said, not meeting Elphias's eyes. "I want it to be special."

"You've been saying that for two years," Elphias said, wrapping his arms around Albus and forcing them closer. "Tonight _is_ special."

"It doesn't feel right," Albus disagreed. "Maybe…while we're on the trip…it will happen when it's supposed to happen, Elf. When the moment is right, we'll know."

Elphias sighed and let go of Albus, recognizing defeat. Albus kissed him once more, almost as an apology, before walking away and pulling his nightshirt out of his bag.

They shared the double bed in the room, and Albus let Elphias cuddle up to him, holding his hand over his chest. Elphias fell asleep quickly, murmuring now and again as he dreamed, but Albus lay awake. Not out of excitement for the upcoming trip he'd been looking forward to for years, but out of anxiety about his relationship with the wizard beside him. He supposed, technically, Elphias was his boyfriend. They'd been fifteen when they'd first kissed, and over two years had elapsed since then, though they'd never taken it much further. In spite of this, Albus still thought of Elf as his best friend in his head, and he couldn't bring himself to make love with him. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to him, it was just…well…Albus wasn't entirely sure what it was. He couldn't even explain it to himself, let alone to Elphias, and he didn't know how much longer he could delay him before Elphias gave up entirely and decided maybe they oughtn't see each other anymore. It had always seemed so natural that they take the Grand Tour together, but Albus hadn't allowed himself to consider the implications of what would likely be months spent entirely in Elphias's company, alone, in tents or secluded rooms of inns. Perhaps he should just give in and let Elphias have what he wanted. He would probably enjoy it, even if it wasn't as much as Elf would, and it might make their trip more fun. Would he rather spend the whole time arguing about when they were going to shag or just do it? Maybe…maybe tomorrow night, the first official night of their trip, he would give in. There really wasn't any reason not to…except…even after all this time, Albus wasn't really sure he was _in love_. In fact, he highly doubted he was. His affection for his friend was greater than for anyone, with the possible exception of his sister Ariana, and he genuinely enjoyed the time they spent together, but there was always the nagging feeling. If all the poetry, songs, and stories of being in love weren't just exaggerations, then Albus knew in his heart that this wasn't it. And though there were plenty of wizards to whom that wouldn't matter, to Albus…the first time at least…it did.

—

Albus must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke to Elphias's shout. "Al! Get up! It's today!"

Albus smiled as he rose, his worries from last night gone. What difference did it make if he was in love with Elphias or not, if they were intimate or not? After years of waiting, they were finally going to start their trip around the world. All the things they were going to see, the witches and wizards they were going to meet, it was finally happening.

The young men quickly dressed, made sure everything was packed, and headed downstairs. It was early; the Leaky Cauldron had barely started serving breakfast, but there were several other witches and wizards drinking tea and nibbling toast. A group of witches around the boys' age were arguing in Portuguese a few tables away, and Albus wondered if they were taking the Grand Tour as well.

As they waited for their food, Elphias had retrieved the map and begun to chatter about it again, pointing out highlights in Greece that they absolutely had to see and musing about whether they'd have time to visit Rhodes and Crete or whether they'd have to choose one or the other.

"Albus?" Elphias said, tapping his shoulder just as their eggs arrived. "Isn't that your owl? I think it is, he's coming over here."

Albus looked up, and sure enough, an eagle owl he recognized as belonging to his family soared across the room and landed on the table. "Thanks, Sol," he said, taking the envelope from its beak and stroking its feathers. "I wonder what they want…maybe just wishing me luck on the journey…"

Sol took the bit of toast Elphias offered him as Albus read the letter, which was from his brother Aberforth. He had to read it three times before it made sense to him. His brother's already messy writing was even worse than usual, as though this had been written very hurriedly—but illegibility wasn't what was causing him such confusion.

 _Albus,_

 _There's been an accident. You've got to come home right away. It's mother. Ariana…it was an accident. She was having one of her fits. I wasn't home. By the time I got there, it was too late. I don't know exactly what happened, and Ariana couldn't tell me. Mother's gone, Albus._

"Albus?" Elphias said when Albus went over a minute without speaking. His eyes did not leave the parchment, though he'd stopped reading it. His eyes kept focusing on the words "accident," "too late," and "Mother's gone," without comprehending them.

Elphias put a hand on Albus's wrist. "Albus, what's wrong?" he asked gently. "What happened?"

Feeling as though someone else was in charge of his words, Albus whispered, "It's my mother. She's…" It was incredible how strings of incantations from long-forgotten languages flowed easily on his tongue even when he was under pressure, yet he struggled to pronounce this single syllable. "Elphias, my mother...Aberforth says she's...she's dead."

"What?" The voice held the same stunned disbelief that Albus was feeling, and he handed the letter to his friend to see for himself.

"Albus," Elphias said in a hushed voice after he finished reading. "I…I'm so sorry."

"I've got to go home straight away," Albus spoke suddenly, standing up without even being aware of it. The room seemed like a blur, the rest of the tables and patrons miles away.

"Of course," Elphias said. "I'll come with you. Forget the trip, maybe another time—"

"No," Albus said, with more force than he'd intended. "No," he repeated, more gently. "You go, Elphias. Don't worry about me. You've been looking forward to this trip for years."

"I've been looking forward to going on this trip with _you_ ," Elphias said, taking Albus's hand again. "It won't be the same without you. I can wait."

"But you shouldn't. You should go. This is my family, my burden. I have to do this." He forced a smile, though smiling was the last thing in the world he felt like doing. "Go, Elf. Write me about all your adventures. Maybe…in a few years, when Ab's done with school, we can go on a trip together. Remember your favorite places, and we'll visit them. But for now…." He rose, and Elphias did the same. "I can't leave Aberforth and Ariana alone like this. I have to go." He dropped a few sickles on the table for his untouched breakfast, gave Elphias a quick kiss on the cheek, and Disapparated without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The old house had never looked welcoming, at least not to Albus, but the fact that he was dreading what he'd find inside made it ten times worse. From the outside, it looked like just another small two-story dwelling, a cottage really. Vines snaked their way up their walls, though the front garden was well-kept, as the only part of the home visible from the street. A stone wall lined with shrubbery surrounded the property for privacy's sake, even though it hadn't been enough to conceal Ariana forever. The back garden was much more overgrown, but there was a reasonable amount of clean lawn and patio for entertaining—not that they really entertained much. The only neighbor they spoke to, Bathilda Bagshot, might pop over for tea every now and again, and Elphias usually came for a visit at least once per summer, but other than that, only the residents of the Dumbledore home ever went in.

Albus hated the place. He hated hearing Ariana's screams, which crept up the stairs into his bedroom. He hated hearing his mother's pleading, Aberforth's voice rising when he thought she was being too harsh on Ariana. Even the bleating of the goats bothered him, though there was no reason why it should. But despite the fact that it held at least two occupants year-round, the house had an air of neglect. Maybe it was the fact that Albus's mother had kept it spotlessly clean and free of possessions, as though they would vacate any second. Maybe it was the fact that they never congregated in what, in a normal home, would be used as a sitting room. Ariana stayed in the cellar. Aberforth was always either down there with her or out back with the goats. When their mother wasn't tending to Ariana, she stayed in her bedroom, alone. And Albus was always locked by himself in his.

The place had never felt like home to him, and he doubted it ever would. Now that he was finished with Hogwarts, he'd planned on getting his own place as soon as he'd returned from his trip with Elphias. He'd had half a mind never to return, to settle in one of the cities they passed through on the tour, maybe moving to London after a few years abroad and applying his knowledge to a job in the Ministry or for one of the academic publications. Maybe apply for a position at Hogwarts once he was older. He hadn't told his family this, but he'd never intended to return to Godric's Hollow for more than a visit.

It wasn't that he didn't love them. He cared for Ariana more than anyone knew. But Ariana didn't love him the way she loved Aberforth, Aberforth had always resented him, and their mother…Albus always felt she liked him least of her children, and none of his accomplishments ever seemed to please her.

But it didn't matter now. She was gone, he would never see her again, and he was back here, the last place he wanted to be, and there would be no running away. Perhaps after Aberforth finished school, he could stay home with Ariana and Albus could go out on his own. But without their mother, that felt much more like abandonment than if he'd left with her still there. Like it or not, he was man of the house now.

With a sigh, and wishing he were back at the Leaky Cauldron alone with Elphias, he stepped up to the house and opened the door.

Aberforth was sitting alone at the kitchen table. He looked up as Albus entered, then got up from his seat. "For awhile I wasn't sure you were coming."

"I left about 60 seconds after I got Sol's letter," Albus said crossly. He flicked his wand, and his bag drifted down the corridor and upstairs to his room. He joined his brother at the table, and both young wizards sat down, Albus studying Aberforth, who was looking determinedly at the scrubbed wooden surface. Though he was barely fifteen, he already looked older than Albus. They had the same bright blue eyes, but the similarities ended there. Aberforth's hair was a dirty blonde, not smooth like Ariana's, and hung in strings around his head even when he wasn't this gloomy and dejected. There was a line in the center of his forehead that only went away when he was laughing with his sister, and his clothing was dirty and frayed. He avoided eye contact—except when he was angry—and he usually had a tight grip on his wand despite having two years before he could legally do magic.

"So what happened?"

"It was last night," Aberforth said, tracing the wood grain of the table with his left hand. "Ariana seemed fine when I left. There was some sort of explosion or something—I don't know what spell it was. Maybe not even a real spell. All I know is, I get home, Ariana's hiding in the closet, bawling, Mother's on the ground. She's got…burn marks. Her dress is singed and torn, but I don't know exactly what killed her. Ariana hasn't said a word. It took me hours to get her to sleep, she wouldn't take any Calming Draft or anything."

"And where were you? Out in the goat pen again?"

Aberforth glared at Albus, his bright eyes piercing. "Mum sent me to Miss Bagshot's. She's got the flu. I brought over some Pepperup Potion, made her tea and some soup. I wasn't gone an hour. If I'd been with the goats, I would have heard the commotion and come running, wouldn't I?"

Albus didn't answer. "Where is she?" he said instead.

"I told you, she's asleep—"

"Not Ariana. Mum. What did you do with her body?"

Aberforth gave a jerk of his head toward the stairs. "I put her in her bed for now. Look," he said as Albus rose from the table. Albus turned to his brother again. "Don't worry about us. I can take care of Ariana, I'm better with her than anyone. You want to go off with your pathetic boyfriend, go for it. I just thought you at least ought to stay for the funeral."

"Don't be ridiculous," Albus snapped. "And don't call Elphias pathetic. And he's not my boyfriend. Not really," he murmured as he left the room.

Kendra Dumbledore might have been sleeping. Aberforth had covered her with a sheet, but Albus lowered it to look at her face. A proud woman, dignified-looking even in death. Albus gathered her dark hair and braided it, tying the smooth locks at the end, and resting the braid on her flat stomach. She'd been beautiful, high cheekbones, her skin a shade darker than the rest of her family's. Ariana didn't look a thing like her, really, though she was just as beautiful.

Aberforth appeared in the doorway, and Albus turned to him.

"So when should we do it, you think?" the younger brother asked. "Just us, and Miss Bagshot if she's up to it. I was thinking today, but I haven't told Miss Bagshot yet. Tomorrow would be better, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose," Albus sighed. "Have you spoken with Mr. Abbott yet?"

"Who?"

"He does the wizard funerals at the church."

"Oh," Aberforth muttered. "I didn't think about that."

"All right," Albus said, rising from the bed. "I'll send him an owl. And I'll break the news to Bathilda too. If Ariana wakes up, tell her I'm here and I'll be back soon."

Albus was eager to get out of the house. Maybe it was his mother that died, but he felt more like an intruder than a grieving family member.

—

The funeral was quick and quiet. Elphias had surprised Albus by coming, and Albus was secretly relieved to have him there. Bathilda Bagshot had attended despite her flu, and Aberforth kept Ariana in check. As Kendra had gone out of her way not to make friends, there was no one else there. Even Mr. Abbott, who led the funeral, had never formally met her. Aberforth was the only one who spoke about Kendra, though Albus conjured an elaborate arrangement of violets and lilies to lay on her grave. As the short procession made its way back to the cemetery entrance, Ariana, who had not stopped crying since the funeral started, laid a small hand on the white marble. Aberforth squeezed her shoulder, and they followed Mr. Abbott to the path, Albus and Elphias bringing up the rear.

The two young wizards held back from the rest at the entrance to the cemetery. Albus looked into his best friend's eyes and took his hand.

"Thank you for coming," he whispered. "I mean it."

"Of course," Elphias said, squeezing his fingers. "I liked your mother, Al. And I want to be here for you. I can't let you go through this alone. I'll stay as long as you want. I'll stay, Albus."

Albus kissed him, soft and gentle, reveling in the warmth and comfort it gave him. "Thank you," he whispered. "But you shouldn't stay. You need to go. I need to take care of them." He nodded toward his brother and sister, who were already a block away with Bathilda.

"And you don't want me here with you, to help you?"

"It's not that I don't want you. It's just…" Albus trailed off.

"You think I'll resent you if I stay?" Elphias asked, his eyes searching Albus's.

"That's only part of it," Albus said. He wouldn't have minded Elphias's company, really, but he didn't know about Ariana, about the real reason she never left the house. No one did. He couldn't give Elphias the responsibility of the secret. Close as he was to Albus, he was an outsider. And it wasn't his burden to bear, it was Albus's. "I love you, Elf," Albus said. "Really, I do. But right now, I just need to be with my family. All right?"

Albus felt the pressure on his fingers as Elphias squeezed them. "I understand," he said.

—

Partly due to the Pepperup Potion Kendra had brewed for her, Bathilda had recovered from her illness sufficiently enough that she insisted on making supper for the Dumbledores, refusing Albus's offer of help.

"You just sit now," she said in a motherly voice, patting Albus's shoulder as she waved her wand, causing flames to appear beneath the pot on the stove. "You poor things. I can't help but feel responsible. If it weren't for my silly flu—"

"Rubbish," Albus interrupted. "You couldn't have known. No one could."

"It's my fault!" Ariana screeched. "It was my magic that…that…" and she burst into tears and bolted from the room.

"Ari, no!" Aberforth said, getting up and running after her. Sparks flew from the corridor along with her sobs, and Aberforth glared at Albus before disappearing behind the wall.

Bathilda looked after them, slightly confused. While her back was turned, Albus whispered, " _Obliviate!_ " and she returned to the stove, stirring.

"Backfiring curse of all things," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Albus. About all this. I know you were looking forward to that trip with your friend."

"Don't," Albus said. "Don't worry about it. It was an accident. I belong here, with them."

Aberforth and Ariana didn't return upstairs for supper. Albus eventually convinced Bathilda that the three of them would be fine on their own, and she returned to her own home.

Two plates of food hovering in the air before him, Albus tiptoed down the spiral stairs to the cellar. The room could have been dark and gloomy, but the family had done their best to brighten it up for Ariana's sake. The staircase itself was elaborately molded silver, bright and beautiful—a gift to Ariana for her eleventh birthday, since she would never be getting a Hogwarts letter. At first, their mother had admonished Albus for performing the complex underage magic required to create it—he'd been fourteen at the time—but she soon came to appreciate the feature. In addition, there was an artificial window that looked out on the back garden, and the view was sunny even when it was really raining outside. Colorful drawings hung on the stone walls along with borrowed Gryffindor decorations. The twin-sized bed held faded pink sheets and blankets. Nearby was a small mahogany dresser, and a matching bookcase sat a few feet down.

The other side of the room was mostly used as storage, spare cauldrons and broomsticks, a locked cabinet with potion ingredients. Just next to the staircase was a door that led to Ariana's private bathroom. It was also small, but Albus had added another enchanted window. Any little touch he could to make it feel less like what it was—a prison.

As Albus reached the last few stairs, he heard the sound of giggling and peeked around the corner. Aberforth and Ariana were now sitting on the bed, a book open on their laps.

"See that one, Ari?" Aberforth said. "Look how tiny you were, those little curls and the little button nose." He poked the tip of her nose for effect, and she giggled again.

"She was so beautiful when she smiled," Ariana murmured.

"Almost as beautiful as you."

Ariana beamed, picked up the book Albus now recognized as the family photo album, and hugged it to her chest.

Albus rapped his knuckles on the stone wall, and his siblings looked over at him. "I brought supper," he said, and the plates floated over to them. Ariana put the book on her bedside table and picked up a fork from the plate. Albus sat down beside her and picked up the photo album.

"We were looking at old photos of Mother," Ariana explained. "Ab was telling me stories of when we were little, before we moved here. I can't remember much."

"You were a very talented witch, even then," Albus said. "If you'd come to Hogwarts, I would have had trouble competing with you."

"But I can't go to Hogwarts," she said sadly, moving her food around on her plate. "I can't control my magic, I might kill one of the other students the way…" Her lip trembled, and Aberforth shot Albus a warning look before putting his arm around his sister's shoulders.

"We talked about this, Ari," he said. "What would Mum and Dad be saying to you right now?"

"It's not my fault," she whispered. "I've done nothing wrong."

"Exactly," Aberforth said. "And don't worry about not going to Hogwarts, it's not that great anyway. I'm not going back this year. I'm going to stay here and be with you."

"You are not," Albus contradicted.

"We'll talk about it later," Aberforth said with a pointed look at Ariana, who had started eating again.

Albus held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was to upset his sister after she'd come so close to another episode. He leaned over and kissed her temple, and then went back upstairs before anything else could happen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Albus sat in the grass, making a pebble dance through the air without using his wand. He was on a hill near his house about a week after his mother's funeral, and he wasn't sure how much longer it would be before he'd go mad. He wasn't meant to be kept holed up like this. He was smarter, more talented than anyone he'd ever met, and he needed a challenge. He should be in school learning advanced magic, in London publishing articles for _Transfiguration Today_ , or, better yet, on an adventure abroad with Elphias.

He sighed, letting the pebble fall in the grass. He missed Elf, and he regretted not sleeping with him that last night together, not letting him stay after the funeral, at least for a little while. Maybe he wasn't in love with Elphias the way Elphias was in love with him, but what difference did it make? He liked him plenty, loved him even, and who else did he have?

 _Aberforth and Ariana_ , he reminded himself. _They're your brother and sister. You love them. You need to be here for them._

Yes, he needed to be here for Ariana. He couldn't leave her. It was his duty. He wouldn't abandon his family. Even if it meant sacrificing his freedom, wasting his magical talents by levitating pebbles in the grass, he would do what he knew was the right thing.

An owl hooted, and Albus looked up. It was Lina, the small gray-white owl that belonged to Bathilda Bagshot. She had a scroll tied to her leg and held it out to him when she landed on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Lina," Albus said, unrolling the scroll.

 _Albus,_

 _Would you like to stop over for tea this afternoon? I'm sure you could use a change of pace, and Aberforth and Ariana should be fine on their own for an hour or two. My great-nephew is visiting from Hungary—he's about your age, and I'd like you to meet him._

 _Hope to see you soon,_

 _Bathilda_

Albus hadn't brought a quill out with him. For a moment he tried to Summon one from the cottage without using his wand, but it didn't work, and he decided he might as well head back there. He'd need to tell Aberforth that he was going, anyway.

"Want to come back to the house with me, Lina? I'll write Bathilda yes when we get there."

Lina hooted in what Albus figured was consent and remained on his shoulder as he made his way back home.

Albus scribbled his reply on a piece of parchment and handed it to the owl, who took off through the window back to Bathilda's. He was going more out of boredom than anything else. He didn't mind having tea alone with Bathilda—she knew more about magical history than anyone Albus knew, and they often had long discussions about goblin rebellions and the Statute of Secrecy. But if her great-nephew would be there, someone around Albus's own age, he doubted the conversation would be so stimulating. Seventeen-year-old wizards, on the whole, were interested in two things: Quidditch and seventeen-year-old witches. Albus didn't particularly care about either. But at least it would get him out of the house for an afternoon.

"Bathilda's invited me for tea," he informed Aberforth when the younger boy entered the kitchen. "I'll be heading over around four."

"Whatever," Aberforth said. "We'll be fine here." He took the empty can of goat feed he was holding and brought it to the sink. He waved his wand, and the can began to clean itself.

"You're not seventeen," Albus said, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"You going to report me to the Ministry of Magic?" Aberforth rolled his eyes. "You and Ariana wouldn't last five minutes without me."

"And what do you expect us to do once you go back to school?"

"I've told you, I'm not going back," Aberforth said. He jabbed his wand toward the sink, and the scrubber brush scrubbed harder. "I don't know what you're still doing here, it's obvious you don't want to be."

"I'm the head of the family now, it's my job to take care of you two. I wouldn't be doing a very good job if I let you drop out of school with three years to go."

"Hmm," Aberforth muttered. "I'm going to check on Ariana. Enjoy your tea, Albus."

—

Albus strolled down the lane to Bathilda's home, wondering where Elphias was right now, what he was doing. He was glad to get out of the house, have someone to see and talk to. Maybe Elphias wasn't as smart as he was, maybe they didn't have as much in common as Albus wished, but he was good company. Better than Aberforth, anyway. He should have taken Elf up on his offer to wait with the tour. No, he shouldn't have, he wouldn't want to subject his best friend to the boredom he was facing.

He'd reached Bathilda's house. It was smaller than the Dumbledores' home, but then, she lived alone anyway, though she often entertained. She was somewhere in her late sixties or early seventies, and though she'd never married, she had many friends in and out of the village. Her home was full of books on every magical subject, from history to Quidditch to advanced Transfiguration. She usually had the windows open, letting the sunlight in, and her four cats wandered around the cottage and garden as they pleased, often stopping to rub against the legs of visitors.

Albus rang the doorbell and heard the chime echoing inside before the sound of footsteps reached the door.

"Albus!" Bathilda said, beaming at him as she opened the door. "I'm so glad you could make it. Come on in. We're having tea out in the garden, it's such a lovely day."

"Thanks, Bathilda," Albus said, stepping inside. "You're feeling better, I expect?"

"Oh, of course," she responded, closing the door behind him. "It'll take more than a cough and a fever to take me out of commission."

He followed her through the house and out the back, where a tray of tea and biscuits was sitting on the table along with one of the cats. A young man was also sitting there, a teacup already in hand.

"Gellert," Bathilda said, waving. "This is Albus, he and his family live just down the street. Come here, let me introduce you."

The young man rose from his seat as Albus and Bathilda approached. He was very handsome, with golden-blond hair that fell just to his shoulders and striking blue eyes. He wasn't quite as tall as Albus, but he had a sturdier frame. Albus imagined strong muscles beneath the elegant robes and gray vest. Gellert smiled at Albus as the two shook hands, and Albus noticed straight, even teeth.

"Gellert Grindelwald," the boy said, with just the slightest trace of an Eastern European accent.

"Albus Dumbledore," Albus replied. Gellert's hand was warm, softer than he'd expected, and he squeezed Albus's fingers for a moment before he let go. Albus was grateful when the contact broke, because he could feel his hands begin to sweat.

"Yes, I know who you are," Gellert said, sitting back down. He reached for his teacup without breaking eye contact and studied Albus over the rim as he too sat down. "You've got an impressive number of articles published for someone who's—what? Eighteen?"

"Seventeen," Albus said, taking the tea Bathilda handed him. "I'll be eighteen next month. I suppose Bathilda showed you the _Transfiguration Today_ piece on trans-species transformation."

"It was all right for bedtime reading," Gellert shrugged. "But I was more interested in the one in _SpellBound_ last winter, 'Jinx, Hex, or Curse: Down the Dark Path.'"

"What about it?" Albus asked. He kept his voice casual, attempting to hide his surprise that this boy had actually read his article—and that it left an impression on him.

"You seem to believe that all jinxes are Dark magic—or was I misreading it?"

"I said jinxes are the first step of a very slippery slope. The difference between a jinx and an ordinary spell is that a jinx causes intentional harm, the most basic difference between Dark magic and ordinary magic."

"'Harm,'" Gellert scoffed. "When has a jinx ever harmed anyone? You mean you've never used Jelly-Legs on any of your mates for a laugh? The counter jinxes are easy enough. It's not harm unless it's lasting harm, is it?"

Albus studied him for a moment. His eyes were a very dark shade of blue, and piercing, though not unkindly. Albus had been told often how distinctive his own eyes were, but compared to this boy's, they seemed quite ordinary. "Where do you draw the line, though?" Albus asked. "Even the Cruciatus Curse is only active until it's lifted, but you wouldn't use that just for fun, would you?"

"The Cruciatus Curse is only harmful while it's happening. Once it's lifted, you're back to normal. Maybe it takes you a minute to get back to your feet, but so what? No lasting harm done."

"You wouldn't consider _Crucio_ Dark magic?" Albus said, a note of disbelief in his voice. "And as for no lasting harm, I've read that using it in excess could cause permanent brain damage. Irreversible."

"That's only a theory," Gellert dismissed.

"All right, boys," Bathilda said, her usually cheery voice cross, her arms folded and her eyes narrowed.

Albus jumped in his seat. He'd nearly forgotten she was there, his attention so focused on Gellert.

"Really," she said, putting a biscuit on each plate and handing them around. "What a thing to be discussing."

"You love talking theory about magic, Aunt Bathilda," Gellert pointed out. "Aren't you working on a book about Divination practices?"

"You're writing a book?" Albus asked, though he realized the news should hardly surprise him. She owned more books than anyone Albus had ever known, and she often published articles. Albus remembered how honored he'd felt at having his name alongside hers in _Transfiguration Today_.

"Yes," Bathilda said. "But there's quite a difference between discussing history or Divination and debating what should and should not be considered a Dark Art."

Albus dipped his biscuit in his tea. Gellert looked as though he wanted to respond, but he glanced at Albus before saying anything, and Albus gave a nearly imperceptible shake of the head. Gellert silently sipped his tea; he understood. They would continue the conversation, but they would do so alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was just after ten o'clock. Albus hurried to the hill near his house where he'd been playing with pebbles that morning. He was running late. Ariana had nearly destroyed the kitchen twenty minutes earlier. It had taken the brothers almost fifteen minutes to calm her down, and Albus had wanted to put the place back in order before he left. He felt a twinge of guilt, leaving now with his sister in such a state—but she would be fine with Aberforth. He was much better with her than Albus was, anyway, and she'd worn herself out, been asleep by the time he'd left.

Gellert was already at the hill. He lay in the grass, propped up on his elbows. He'd lit a few torches, and the firelight made it look like his face was glowing. He looked up as Albus approached, and the two exchanged a smile.

"So tell me," Gellert said as Albus sat beside him in the grass. "What's a mind like you doing in a little town like this? You're finished with school; if I were you, I'd be out traveling the world, researching basilisks or such for another _SpellBound_ article."

"And what are you doing here?" Albus asked. "Just visiting your great aunt on your summer holiday?" His tone of voice conveyed his doubt.

Gellert grinned, and Albus smiled back involuntarily.

"My mother died," Albus said softly, looking away. "I've got to look after my brother and sister."

"Sorry about that," Gellert said. "How old are they?"

"Fourteen and fifteen. But my sister…" he hesitated. He shouldn't tell, not even Bathilda knew.

"Go on," Gellert said. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Albus smiled. He didn't know why, he'd only met the boy a few hours ago, but somehow he felt that Gellert was worthy of the truth. "She's not…quite right. She has outbursts of magic, she can't control it. That's how Mother died. I think it might have been a Cascading Jinx or something. Really, she's the sweetest girl you'd ever meet, she wouldn't hurt a fly on purpose. But when she has a fit, the spells just happen."

"Has she always been that way?"

Albus shook his head. "When she was six, she was attacked. I don't know exactly what they did to her, though I have my suspicions, but she's never been the same since. Three Muggle boys."

"Gits," Gellert muttered.

"Anyway, I can't leave her. She can't go to Hogwarts; it's too dangerous. And Aberforth still has three years to go."

"So, as the oldest, you need to be the responsible one even though it means getting the short end of the stick," Gellert concluded.

Albus smiled again. "I suppose that's one way of putting it." He turned to Gellert again. The flames from the torch were dancing in his eyes. "So what are you doing here?"

Gellert studied Albus a moment before responding. "What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?"

The name threw Albus back in time and into Hogwarts Castle. He was in his second year, looking through the restricted section of the library for a History of Magic essay. The book had been ancient, and it had provided very little information for his essay (Wizard-Muggle Relations in the 15th Century), but there had been a short section that had caught his attention because it had mentioned his favorite fairy tale, the _Tale of the Three Brothers_. The book hinted not only that the brothers of the tale were real people, the Peverell brothers, but that the items in the story were real as well, that seekers were calling them the Deathly Hallows, and that any wizard who united them would be the Master of Death.

The idea would have been appealing to his 12-year-old mind even if he had not received word less than a month ago that his father had died in Azkaban. Though he had always loved the story growing up and been fascinated by it, the idea that it could be real had captured his mind and not let go. A Resurrection Stone would mean he could bring his father back. An Invisibility Cloak would mean that Ariana wouldn't need to be kept in the cellar, but could go out and play like little girls ought to be able to do. And an unbeatable wand…

Albus had already known that he was better at magic than any of the other students, even seventh-years, and probably better than most of the teachers, and that was just with his ordinary wand. The thought of what he could do with a wand of that power had taken hold of him more so than any of the others.

Albus had spent the next years trying to find anything else he could on the subject. Teachers easily allowed him access to the restricted section despite his young age, and he'd read story after gruesome story about wizards who claimed their wands were the best, boasted of the magic they could perform with them, and then got murdered for their troubles.

Yet he heard nothing more of any invisibility cloaks that were better than any others, and no book ever mentioned any artifacts, stone or otherwise, that could awaken the dead. As the years had passed, the idea of the Hallows had slowly slipped to the back of Albus's mind, and though it had remained there—he'd never forgotten about them—he focused his attention and research instead on Transfiguration, on discovering new spells, on becoming the best pupil Hogwarts had ever seen.

"The Deathly Hallows," Albus whispered, looking at Gellert in the dark. "I haven't thought about those in years."

Gellert's face lit up. "You know about them then?"

"I wanted to find them when I was younger," Albus said. "I can't tell you how many hours I spent in the library…"

"The library," Gellert said with a laugh. "Forget the library. Come with me." He rose suddenly off the ground, and Albus scrambled up as well. Gellert grabbed his hand and Disapparated them.

They appeared in a cemetery. A second glance told Albus it was the Godric's Hollow cemetery, the same one his mother had been buried in last week.

"Lumos," Gellert said. He cast the light on one tombstone, then the next one. Soon he was running from grave to grave. Albus lit his own wand and hurried to keep up with him. "Help me," he said. "We're looking for Peverell."

Peverell. Of course, the brothers. They were buried here, in Godric's Hollow? Albus was certain he'd never come across the information before—he would have remembered if the supposed owners of the objects he so desired had lived in the same town that was Albus's home.

With a thrill of excitement Albus had not felt since the start of NEWT exams, he and Gellert both ran up and down the aisles of tombstones, casting their wandlight on each one in turn.

"Here," Albus called a minute later. Gellert dashed over to join him. "Is this the one?"

Gellert's beam of light joined Albus's. "Yes," Gellert breathed. "Ignotus Peverell. Come here," he said, taking Albus's hand and dragging him to the head of the grave. "You see that?" he said, pointing to a symbol carved over the name. "That's the symbol of the Deathly Hallows." He held his left hand up, the palm facing Albus, and drew the mark with his wand. "The wand…." A straight line burned into his skin like a tattoo. "The stone." A circle joined the line. Then a triangle surrounded them. "The cloak," Gellert finished triumphantly. "The Deathly Hallows."

"I've never met anyone else who believed in them before," Albus said, staring at Gellert. "That's why you've come here. You think they're real, you want to find them."

"Of course they're real. You've heard of the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny. It's the Elder Wand of the tale."

"And the Resurrection Stone?" Albus said. This had been the one that caused the most doubt. Wands were obviously real, invisibility cloaks were real even if most of them were not as perfect and infallible as the _Tale of the Three Brothers_ implied. But the stone, as much as Albus wanted to believe, had seemed so far-fetched. The closest thing Albus had come across in his reading was a Philosopher's Stone, and while clearly powerful, keeping someone alive didn't seem nearly as impressive as bringing someone back from death. "You really think the stone is real, too?"

"Yes! Think, Albus. Think what we could do if we had them. You could bring back your parents, to start."

The longing expression that crossed Albus's face was very brief, but Gellert caught it, and it was enough for him. He grabbed Albus's right hand with his left and pressed their palms together. Albus felt a momentarily tickling sensation in his hand, and when they pulled apart, the Deathly Hallows symbol was burned in his palm, too.

—

Albus dreamt vividly that night. Gellert kept appearing, whispering promises in his ear, then laughing and vanishing again. Albus soon realized he had the Cloak of Invisibility, the Hallow, that was where he kept going. But not just that—he had all three. Albus wanted the Stone, but Gellert wouldn't give it to him. Just when Albus caught up with him to take it, he disappeared under the Cloak again. Albus tried to follow the sound of his laughter. He started to grow frustrated. He pleaded with Gellert, though he couldn't see him, begging to let him have the Stone so he could bring back his parents.

"But they're already back," a voice whispered in his ear. And there Gellert was, beside him, his eyes twinkling at Albus, the sun shining in his hair. His gaze followed where Gellert pointed, and sure enough, there they were. Standing on the hillside, happy and whole, holding hands with Ariana while Aberforth smiled with them.

"Now you'd better hurry up," Gellert said, taking both Albus's hands in his. "Or we'll miss our portkey. Don't you know it's tradition, Albus, for wizards to take the Grand Tour after they've finished school?"

Albus began to laugh. Here he was, the whole world before him, this handsome boy beside him, his family waving, happy to see them off…

When he woke, he did not want the feeling of contentment to go away. Would it really be possible? If he had the Resurrection Stone…why shouldn't it be? Would they be able to find it, Albus supposed, would be the better question. Well, maybe Albus or Gellert on his own wouldn't be able to find it, but if they worked together…

He'd known him less than a day, but it had taken Albus only minutes to realize that Gellert was like no one he'd ever met. Never had anyone been able to keep up with Albus, match his train of thought, make connections as quickly as he could. The others, even the ones Albus knew were smart themselves, were always amazed at what Albus could do with his wand and with his mind. Gellert hadn't looked at him that way. He'd looked at Albus and seen an equal, someone to conspire with, not ask for advice or instruction or leadership.

Albus threw his covers back and jumped out of bed. He wanted to see Gellert again, he had to. He raised his hand and inspected the palm, where the symbol of the Deathly Hallows was still etched into his skin.

A glance out the window told him Aberforth was out back with the goats, and after hurriedly dressing, Albus rushed downstairs and met him.

"Aberforth," Albus said, and the younger brother looked up from the goat he was petting. "I have to go out, I need to meet someone. Could you make breakfast for Ariana when she wakes?" He left without waiting for an answer. It was a formality, more than anything. Of course Aberforth would tend to Ariana while he was gone. He would be back later anyway.

As he made his way down to Bathilda's, mind running wild as he anticipated what he and Gellert would talk about, Albus got the strange feeling he was being followed. He glanced round automatically but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. A Muggle down the street was reading a newspaper on his front porch, but it was still quite early in the morning and there was no one else in sight. Albus put the matter out of his mind and continued on his way.

Gellert probably thought the Cloak was here in Godric's Hollow, or if not the Cloak itself, at least a way to trace it. That was why he'd come. The wand shouldn't be too difficult to find, it was the most famous and had probably passed through the most hands…

Albus stopped in his tracks again. He was still a few houses away from Bathilda's, still the only one out on the street, and yet he could swear someone was following him. He turned back again, this time scanning the fences and shrubs along the street to see if anyone was hiding in there.

And then he heard it—something, a noise, from somewhere. Not a voice, but not an animal, either. A rustling? But where? The air was still. Albus turned around in a circle, deliberately, concentrating with all his might.

Then out of nowhere, a finger tapped his back.

Albus whipped around. He heard the noise again, and this time realized was it was—a soft laugh. Then he could swear he detected movement (though what was moving, he couldn't tell). However, he was prepared for the tap on his back this time, and grabbed the hand before the person could duck out of reach.

The fingers struggled in his, but Albus had a firm grip. He heard the laugh again, and smiled back, though he wasn't sure where his face was. Once he felt out the fingers in his hand, he could just make out their outlines, just barely. He looked up, trying to determine the rest of Gellert's outline now that he knew it was there, but he couldn't quite manage it. He detected movement again—it looked like the air was shifting—and then Gellert was there, fully visible and grinning at Albus.

"Very clever," Albus said. "I've never seen anyone perform a Disillusionment Charm before; how ever did you manage it?"

Gellert laughed again. "I'd like to see you do a better one. You never would have found me if I hadn't gotten bored and made it easy for you."

Albus smiled. He twirled his wand and disappeared before Gellert could have a chance to prepare himself, then took off at a run.

He went to Bathilda's home and into her back garden. Gellert followed him, able to predict that he wanted to get out of the Muggle street and somewhere private.

" _Homenum Revelio_ ," Gellert said, pointing his wand into the yard.

"That's cheating!" Albus said.

Gellert laughed and hurried in the direction of Albus's voice and the spell. Albus darted away again. Gellert's eyes started to follow him, but had soon lost him. " _Finite!_ " he shouted, pointing his wand several feet to the left of where Albus stood.

Albus laughed, involuntarily giving away his position. Gellert grinned and lunged for him. Albus dodged him, but Gellert drew his wand again. The counterspell was on Gellert's lips, but Albus quickly thought, _Protego!_ , and the Disillusionment Charm remained active. However, he was now surrounded by a faint blue light, and his own Shield Charm prevented him from going anywhere. He and Gellert looked at each other—or rather, Albus looked at Gellert, and Gellert looked at the place where he knew Albus must be. Both were waiting, calculating their next move. Albus acted.

He silently got rid of his Shield Charm and made a run for it, but he wasn't quick enough. Gellert tackled him, taking him the ground. Albus shivered as the large hands ran across his invisible chest, feeling for his arms. He lay quite still in the grass, content to have Gellert use the sense of touch to feel out precisely where Albus was. A light hand traced his face, and Albus took advantage of the moment being invisible to stare shamelessly at the strong jaw, the light pink lips, the sapphire eyes. He really was such a beautiful boy.

Gellert was looking at Albus know—he'd estimated where his eyes were, though he couldn't see them. Or maybe he could, barely, at least when Albus blinked.

" _Finite_ ," Gellert whispered again, barely moving his wand because his right hand was pinning Albus's wrist to the ground.

Now that Gellert could see him, Albus suddenly felt shy and self-conscious about their closeness. Maybe Gellert sensed it or maybe not, but either way, he smiled at Albus quickly before getting off him, then reaching his hand out to help him up from the ground.

They walked toward the house together. "Did you eat breakfast?" Gellert asked as they entered the empty kitchen. He Summoned the tea kettle from the stove and began to fill it with water from his wand.

"Not yet," Albus said. "Where's Bathilda?"

"Taking her 'morning constitutional,'" Gellert said. He winked at Albus. "We won't be overheard."

Albus smiled back and helped Gellert make breakfast.

"So you've lived here all your life?" Gellert asked, waving his wand and causing eggs to crack over the hot pan.

"Not quite. We moved here from Mould-on-the-Wold when I was ten. That was when…" He trailed off, but Gellert gave him a searching look. "Ariana," Albus explained. "My father went after the Muggle boys that did it. They took him to Azkaban for it. That's when Mum brought us here."

Gellert shook his head. "If it weren't for the stupid Statute of Secrecy, that never would have happened. No Muggles would dare to try hurting a witch. And even if they did, no one would try to imprison your father for getting revenge."

"I don't think they'd have sent him there if they knew the real reason why," Albus said fairly. "But he couldn't tell them. They would have taken Ariana to St Mungo's if they knew her real condition."

"Things would be so different if we were out in the open," Gellert said. He stirred the eggs a moment before turning to Albus. "Just think what it would be like with no Statute of Secrecy. Wizards and witches performing magic whenever we want without any fear of some stupid Muggle seeing and blabbing. We'd be free, truly free."

"We weren't free before the Statute of Secrecy," Albus pointed out without looking at Gellert. He ran his wand over a piece of bread, toasting it. "Muggles have always been scared of magic. They'd strip witches and wizards of their wands before imprisoning and even killing them. Sure, plenty of us were able to escape, but not everyone. Especially the children. Ariana would probably still have been attacked."

"That's because we let the Muggles control us, instead of us controlling them," Gellert said. Albus glanced at him and could see fire dancing in his eyes as he spoke. He seemed to have forgotten about the eggs entirely. Albus put the fire out under the pan to stop them from burning. "Think, Albus!" Gellert said, grabbing his arm and making eye contact. Albus noticed that his Eastern European accent got slightly thicker with his passion. "We have powers that Muggles can only dream of. If we came together as a society to use it, to take what is rightfully ours, just think what life would be! Muggles would never dare to challenge our authority, would respect us the way we deserve."

"What are you talking about, Gellert?" Albus asked, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt. "The Statute of Secrecy has been in effect for over 200 years. It took ages to get all the Ministries of Magic of the countries to agree to it. No one's going to overturn it."

"No," Gellert agreed, "unless—"

He was interrupted by the kitchen door opening and a red-cheeked Bathilda walking in. "Oh, hello, Albus," she said cheerfully. "You boys made breakfast? Excellent. Why don't you pour us a cup of tea?"

Gellert gave Albus a significant look. It was much like the one they'd exchanged the previous afternoon. This conversation was not over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Albus and Gellert sat at the kitchen table in Bathilda's home. They'd finished breakfast, though Gellert was still sipping his tea, and Bathilda had retired to her study.

"So what were you trying to say earlier, Gellert?" Albus asked. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The Statute of Secrecy lifted…wizards having power over Muggles…the idea was ludicrous, it was horrid and terrifying, and yet…

Gellert put down his teacup and glanced at the closed door to his great aunt's study. "Not here," he said. He got up from the table and grabbed Albus's hand. Albus followed him outside, smiling at the tingling feeling Gellert's hand in his gave him.

They went to the back. Gellert conjured a rope from nowhere and tied it to Bathilda's chimney with magic. It hung down the side of the house, and Gellert took it in his hands, using it to climb up the wall to the roof. Albus followed him.

Gellert was already sitting on the roof tiles when Albus made it up, looking at the town before him. Albus sat down beside him. Gellert had used a Cushioning Charm, and it was quite comfortable.

"What do you see?" Gellert asked, looking straight ahead.

Albus followed his gaze. He could see the Muggle cottages along the streets, and his own house a few blocks away. This was accompanied by a twinge of guilt for not being there with his siblings, but he pushed it away. Past that was a small group of trees which hid the hill Albus frequented when he wanted to be alone. In the distance in one direction was the town square, where some Muggles were out and about—though they were too far away to see clearly. Near the town square was the church and the cemetery where Ignotus Peverell was buried not far from Albus's mother. In the other direction, farmland extended for miles. Some cows were grazing, no more than pinpricks at this distance. Muggles were riding horses on their way into town.

"You know what I see?" Gellert continued when Albus didn't answer. "Oppression. Those Muggles go about their lives doing whatever they please, completely ignorant of the existence of a whole other class of people who can do such amazing things—miraculous things, to Muggles. And yet, us, the witches and wizards, the ones who wield this power, are forced into hiding. Godric's Hollow has lots of Wizarding families, I've heard. But could you tell by looking which houses are theirs?"

"No," Albus conceded. He knew it was true that a decent percentage of the town was made up of magical folk, but as Kendra had never made friends with them, Albus was not acquainted with any wizards or witches in his town. Some of his old schoolmates could be living nearby, and he wouldn't know. And Gellert was right—the Wizarding homes looked no different than the Muggle ones, they blended right in. Albus knew this wasn't the case with all Wizarding homes. He'd been to visit Elphias during holidays before, and his home was immediately distinguishable from a Muggle home. The plants in Mr. and Mrs. Doge's garden would not be recognizable by Muggles, the chimney frequently emitted multicolored smoke or sparks, and several broomsticks were usually propped up near the door. But as the Doges lived outside of town in an area where Muggles never ventured, they were able to get away with this without having to worry about the Statute of Secrecy. If Albus's family had ever tried such things, the Ministry of Magic would be on them within minutes.

"The Muggles do whatever they want and no one bats an eye," Gellert continued. "But if we want to practice dueling or play Quidditch—or if we want a pet more interesting than a cat or owl—we'd better keep it safely hidden. How is that fair, Albus? How is that right?"

"It's not right," Albus said. He looked at Gellert. "You're right…but what could we do? Okay, so the both of us are brilliant wizards, but we're teenagers. Who's going to listen to us?"

"All revolutions start somewhere," Gellert said. "We can't be the only ones who feel this way, we just have to be brave enough to do something about it. You're in Gryffindor, you're brave, right? I'm not saying there won't be opposition—of course there'll be opposition. And we need to be prepared to fight it. The Deathly Hallows could help us, Albus. We find the Hallows, we'll be invincible. No one will be able to touch us. We'd be able to recruit, raise support, and they'd have to listen. We'll have the power to show everyone what our world would be if wizards were in charge."

Albus stared into Gellert's eyes, dark with passion. He imagined the world, the Ministry of Magic in charge rather than the Muggle ministry. A revolution…the word sounded so tantalizing. And he and Gellert, the smartest wizards of their generation, the leaders of the revolution, the leaders of the new world. "We'd be the ones with the Hallows," Albus said. "We'd be in charge, we'd make all the rules—make things the way _we_ want."

"The way we know is right," Gellert agreed. "Wizard freedom will be our priority, not hiding from stupid Muggles. And who better to do it, Albus?" he asked, grabbing Albus's arm. "You know we're the best there is, you and I. We can do things other wizards can't, you know this. Think of it," he said, gesturing out at the world with his wand arm. A few sparks flew out the end. "The world before us, ours for the taking. We have the intelligence, we'll have the power to make it a better place." He turned to Albus again. "A place with freedom for your sister. A place where the things that happened to her would never happen to anyone else. Yes, we'll be opposed at first, but once people see what the world would be like with us in charge, they'll know what we're doing is right. We'll be respected, admired, loved by everyone. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, leaders of the new world."

Albus could see it. Himself and Gellert with the Deathly Hallows, standing on a stage before a crowd of admirers, clamoring for their attention, cheering at everything they said. He could see it reflected in Gellert's eyes, could see they were thinking the same thing, imagining the new world, the revolution led by the two of them…

Gellert was still holding Albus's arm with his left hand. His fingers gently rubbed Albus's arm beneath his sleeve, and then he leaned forward. The lips against Albus's were soft, warm. Albus closed his eyes, reached blindly for Gellert's other arm, gripped it tightly when he found it. Kissing Gellert was electrifying, thrilling. Sparks of sensation flew through his body, setting every nerve in his skin on fire. Did they really need to start a revolution? They could sit here on this roof for the rest of eternity instead as far as Albus was concerned.

When Gellert started to pull away, Albus's lips followed his, and he tightened his grip on Gellert's arm. He did not want it to stop. Gellert pulled back a little bit and laughed softly. Albus opened his eyes and looked into Gellert's, smiling back. Gellert kissed him again, just a quick peck.

"So what do you say?" Gellert asked in a low voice. He held up his hand, the palm etched with the Deathly Hallows symbol. "Are you with me?"

Albus aligned his palm with Gellert's, and they grasped hands. "To the end," Albus said.

—

"And where have you been?" Aberforth looked irritated, glaring at Albus as he entered the kitchen.

Albus studied his brother a moment. He didn't think Aberforth would be too impressed if he answered, "Heaven," which was how he felt, so he looked away. "That's not your business," he said instead.

"Like hell it isn't," Aberforth contradicted, crossing the room and blocking Albus's way. "It's nearly supper time. You've been out all day. Ariana thought you'd abandoned us."

"I've only been gone a few hours," Albus argued. Maybe ten was kind of stretching the definition of 'a few,' but Albus didn't care. He was allowed to see a friend if he wanted to. There was food in the house, and his siblings were old enough to be left alone. "I was visiting with Gellert."

"Who?"

"Bathilda's great nephew. He's staying with her for the summer."

"Well next time you have a 'visit' that lasts all day, maybe you could do it here where you can keep an eye on the sister you claim to be so attentive to."

Red sparks flew out of the end of Albus's wand without him meaning them to. He glared at his brother and forced his way past him, heading for the cellar.

Ariana was sitting on her bed, reading a book.

"Hey, Ari," Albus said softly.

She jumped up, dropping her book onto the bed. Flames flew from her fingers, lighting it on fire. She looked back, horrified, and Albus hurried over, putting the flames out before they could spread. He restored the singed pages with a tap of his wand. Ariana threw her arms around him, gripping tightly. Her hands still felt hot to the touch.

"I thought you'd left!" she said. "You didn't say anything to me, you were gone all day!"

"Take it easy," Albus said, hugging her back. "I wouldn't leave you and Aberforth. And I told him where I was going. I didn't want to wake you."

"I know," Ariana muttered, letting go and wiping her eyes, trying to hide it from him. "But we didn't know how long you'd be gone. I thought you'd changed your mind."

"I'm sorry," Albus said, the guilt running through his brain—until he remembered that what he was planning with Gellert was for her. "Look at me, Ari," he said.

Her eyes, still a bit wet, looked up into his.

"With Mum and Dad both gone, it's up to me to take care of you and Ab. And that's what I'm doing. You two are the most important things in the world to me, and everything I do, I do for you. That's a promise."

Ariana nodded, and Albus kissed the top of her head. "Now I'm going to make something to eat. I'll let you know when it's ready."

—

After supper, Albus sat alone in his room. Bathilda's roof was just visible from his second-story window, though Gellert wasn't up there anymore. A strong part of him wanted to go back there, even though he'd just left barely an hour ago. It was silly. But he wanted to see Gellert again, wanted to kiss him again, discuss their revolution, anything to be in his company.

Tomorrow. He could wait until tomorrow, couldn't he? They'd already planned on tomorrow. Though…feelings of guilt about abandoning his siblings struck Albus again…they probably ought to meet here, where Albus could keep an eye on Aberforth and Ariana. He decided to write Gellert a note letting him know. It was just an excuse for further communication with him, he knew, but it didn't bother Albus.

He took a strip of parchment from the neat pile on his desk and, choosing his phrases carefully, requested that Gellert come to Albus's home at his convenience the next day. He promised they'd have privacy—conversations on the main floor weren't audible from the cellar unless they involved shouting, and Aberforth would be downstairs or outside most of the day anyway.

When he was finished, Albus read the note again before signing it, just to make sure it didn't sound too…that it wouldn't come across a way he didn't want it to. He had to remind himself that he and Gellert had only known each other for two days—though it felt like they'd been friends their whole lives. However, just because it felt that way to him didn't mean it felt that way to Gellert, and he didn't want to say anything that would change Gellert's mind about liking him.

Liking him.

Gellert liked him. Gellert had kissed him. The memory sent shivers down Albus's back. He'd never felt anything so strong in his life. He'd never wanted to spend all of his waking hours with another person like this. And they were going to be spending so much time together…

Albus flexed his right hand, looking at the Deathly Hallows symbol on the palm. It would be their adventure, their revolution, their life together…

Struck by a sudden inspiration, Albus signed his name with the Deathly Hallows symbol beginning "Albus," instead of the letter A. So Gellert would know, would understand, that Albus was entirely serious about undertaking this with him. He had no doubts. This was why he'd been given this intelligence, this power, this chance. He had been put on this earth to make it a better place. With Gellert.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The three Dumbledores were eating breakfast when the knock came at the door. Ariana looked up quickly, frightened. Albus glanced at his siblings as he rose from the table. Ariana's fork had melted in her hand. Aberforth took it from her, fixed it, and held her hand, giving Albus an unimpressed look. Ignoring him, Albus opened the door and smiled at Gellert. "Come on in," he said. He quite wanted to embrace him, kiss him hello or something, but kept his hands to himself in front of his family.

"Ariana, Aberforth, this is Gellert," Albus introduced. "He's Bathilda's great nephew, and he's staying with her for the summer. Gellert, this is my brother, Aberforth, and our sister, Ariana."

Ariana stared down at her plate. She was shaking slightly. Aberforth glanced at her and got up from the table. "Excuse me," he said coolly. He took Ariana by the hand and led her downstairs.

Before their mother had died, Ariana had usually taken her meals in the cellar where she lived, but with just the three of them, it felt more comforting to all to have them together. Maybe Albus should have suggested the cellar again today, but he hadn't been certain when Gellert would be arriving.

"She's not good with strangers," Albus said apologetically. "Maybe we can introduce you properly later. Are you hungry? There's still some bread and goat cheese left, or I can cook some more bacon…"

"I've eaten already," Gellert said. "Just some tea would be fine."

"All right. Have a seat." Albus was about to pour the tea when a loud Bam! sounded from downstairs, accompanied by shrieking. Both young boys peered at the door to the cellar, and then Albus sighed and put the teapot down. "This is my fault. Sorry, Gellert, I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."

He hurried across the kitchen and flung open the door to the cellar, running down the stairs.

Neither Aberforth nor Ariana appeared hurt, but the girl was shrieking, hands over her ears, and various objects were bouncing off the stone walls, flying everywhere. Aberforth had his hands on his sister's arms and was whispering to her, though there was no way she could hear him over her screams and the clumps made by books as they hurtled themselves against the walls.

Albus ducked to avoid a cauldron hitting him in the head. "Ariana," he said. "Shh, it's okay. No one's going to hurt you, Ari, it's all right!"

"Why didn't you tell your stupid friend to wait until she was back downstairs?" Aberforth demanded, giving Albus a cold glare before turning back to Ariana. "Hush now," he said gently as her screams began to subside. "He's not going to come down here. He's going to stay upstairs with Albus."

Ariana opened her eyes, letting Aberforth take her hands as he continued to whisper to her, crooning and making soft promises of safety and security. Albus waved his wand, and everything in the room returned to its place. "Maybe give her some Calming Draft," he suggested. "We'll stay upstairs, but even so…"

"All right, but this is our last batch," Aberforth warned.

"I'll make some more later." Albus was already halfway up the stairs.

"Everything all right?" Gellert asked when he returned to the kitchen.

Albus grimaced. "Should be now. I'm really sorry about that."

"Don't be," Gellert said. "It's not your fault—it's the Muggles that hurt her in the first place. And once we carry out our plans, things like that won't ever happen again."

This time, Albus's smile was real, and he joined Gellert at the table, pouring tea for himself. "So where should we start?"

"Hallows," Gellert said definitively. "All right, so you haven't lived here your whole life, but since you were ten, right? Think—have you ever heard anyone mention an invisibility cloak? Do you know if any of your neighbors have one?"

"No, but that doesn't mean anything," Albus said, shrugging. "I don't even know our neighbors. Mum never made friends because she didn't want anyone to find out about Ariana. Have you asked your aunt? She's lived here much longer than I have, and she knows everybody."

"I don't want her to know what I'm up to," Gellert reasoned. "Although I suppose it wouldn't hurt to drop a hint…"

"But honestly, Gellert, I doubt it's still here. Ignotus Peverell lived in the thirteenth century. Chances are, his descendants moved away decades ago. Possibly centuries ago."

"I know that, but we have to start somewhere."

"True," Albus conceded. "Have you looked at Wizarding genealogy books?"

"Of course I have, but they lose track. The Peverell name died out ages ago. Ignotus's son must have just had daughters, and there's no record of who they married. The book makes some guesses, when wives appear with no record of their maiden names, but not for sure. Now there are any number of families it could be with. All we know is that it's with wizards that are pure-blood on at least one side."

"Unless someone had an only child who was a Squib," Albus pointed out.

"We can't think that," Gellert contradicted. "So a Squib married another pure-blood, but there's no way that cloak could be in Muggle hands. The Muggles wouldn't know what to do with it."

"It probably is with wizards, but they could be anywhere, Gellert. It could be they're not even in Britain anymore. What if one of these daughters took the cloak and ran off to Australia or something?"

"I know, I've considered it," Gellert said. "But I was hoping that researching around Godric's Hollow will at least give us an idea. Perhaps we could look more carefully at the cemetery, try to construct the family tree on our own, find some of the missing links." He grabbed Albus's hand then, giving him a fierce, penetrating stare. "And we'll go wherever it takes us. I'm sure it will take time—years, even, perhaps—but I know we can do it."

"Yes, we can," Albus agreed, squeezing Gellert's hand back. Of course the two of them could do it. He looked into the deep blue eyes and knew, had no doubt, that by working together, they could do anything they set their minds to. No one had minds like theirs. Albus was one of the smartest students ever to go to Hogwarts, and he was sure Gellert must have been the smartest of his time at Durmstrang…

"Hang on a moment," Albus said, letting go of Gellert's hand. "What about school? Have you finished at Durmstrang already? You don't look eighteen."

"I'm sixteen actually," Gellert admitted. "Seventeen in January."

"Well Durmstrang has students for a year longer than Hogwarts does, so you must have two years to go still. Are we just going to do this during holidays?"

"I'm not going back to Durmstrang," Gellert said with conviction. He caught Albus's eyes, and Albus was surprised to see anger there. "They didn't understand. I was just experimenting, just learning. I wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"What are you talking about?" Albus asked, concerned.

"They expelled me!" Gellert exclaimed, indignation flashing in his eyes. He banged his fist on the kitchen table to demonstrate his anger. "I wasn't even doing anything wrong, I never hurt anyone. They teach the Dark Arts at Durmstrang anyway. But they said I 'took it too far,' I 'could have killed people.' Bollocks," he said, and Albus smiled at the British word on his foreign lips.

"What exactly were you doing?" Albus asked.

"Just experimenting. You've done that, haven't you? Experimented with new spells, new forms of magic?"

"Of course," Albus said.

"Exactly. They said what I was trying was too Dark," Gellert said, rolling his eyes. "I wasn't hurting anyone. I just needed to try new things. Starting a revolution isn't exactly easy. But I couldn't explain my real reasoning to those half-wits, they wouldn't understand. I think they were just scared of me," Gellert elaborated, lowering his voice. He leaned a little closer, and Albus did as well. "They knew how brilliant I was, they knew I got top marks in all my classes. They were jealous, threatened by me. Just found an excuse to throw me out, they'd probably been planning it a long time. So they catch me trying a new spell, call it Dark Magic, and send me home."

"That's so unfair," Albus said. He understood exactly where Gellert was coming from. Although most of his classmates and teachers had come to like and respect him over his years at Hogwarts, there were more than a few other students who'd hated Albus for how smart he was. No one ever tried to duel him, obviously—they knew better—but they would tease him, taunt him, trip him in the corridors. He explained this to Gellert, told him how his classmates would pretend to befriend him only to try and use him to improve their grades, get sour when he wouldn't let them copy, or when he refused them because he knew the difference between kids who genuinely wanted help and kids who wanted Albus to do the work for them.

Gellert nodded along with him. "Exactly," he said. "That's happened to me dozens of times. It's ridiculous." Then he sighed and smiled at Albus, taking his hand. "You understand," he said. "I wish we'd met years ago. I've never met anyone like you, I've never met anyone who understands me like you do."

Albus blushed, thrilled. He squeezed Gellert's fingers. "It's the same for me," he whispered. Gellert kissed him again. It was brief, and Albus wished it could have gone on all day, but it was enough that it happened. They had important matters to discuss, anyway.

The two agreed to go to the Godric's Hollow cemetery the next day to try and trace the Peverell lineage as far as they could in an attempt to track down the cloak. They talked about casually mentioning the matter to Bathilda, and eventually agreed that it would be better for Albus to bring it up. Even though Gellert was the one related to her, they both knew that she trusted Albus more than him. If Gellert asked, it would seem much more like digging for information than mere curiosity.

They talked for hours, looked through books to research, took a walk through the wood near Albus's house, compared stories from school and new spells or variations they'd discovered. Albus invited Gellert to stay for supper, but he'd told Bathilda he'd be home by then, and they parted ways.

"Is he gone?" Aberforth asked, entering the kitchen from the back at the same time Albus entered it from the front. "Can I bring Ariana up for supper?"

"You could have brought her up earlier," Albus said, annoyed with his brother's tone. "There was no reason for her to be frightened of Gellert. He's a very nice young man."

"I don't trust him," Aberforth said.

Albus rolled his eyes. "Surprise, surprise. You didn't even really meet him, Aberforth. Who are you to judge?"

"I overheard you talking when I came back upstairs from calming Ariana. He admitted he'd been expelled from Durmstrang for practicing Dark Arts. That didn't raise a red flag for you?"

"If you'd eavesdropped on the whole conversation," Albus said coldly, "you would have heard that he didn't hurt anyone, and they'd just been looking for an excuse to expel him."

"And you believe that rubbish?" Aberforth scoffed. "You're supposed to be the smart one of the family."

"I am," Albus said. "I've never met anyone as smart as I am before—not until him."

"Of course," Aberforth said, shaking his head. "You fancy him. I saw you snogging, too. And what happened to Elphias? I thought he was your boyfriend. Now you're screwing around on him."

"What do you care? You don't even like Elphias," Albus said. "And he was never my boyfriend. We never said we were exclusive. He could be out abroad somewhere snogging any number of wizards."

"But you know he's not."

"I don't see how it's any of your business. Now either help me with supper or leave me alone."

Aberforth sighed and began to set the table while Albus started the cooking. For a moment, neither brother spoke.

"How long is he staying?" Aberforth asked eventually, looking up from the bread he was slicing. "Is he only with Miss Bagshot for the summer, or longer?"

"Why?" Albus asked.

"Just trying to figure out how long this is going to go on."

"How long _what_ is going to go on?" Albus turned away from the stew he was cooking to look his brother in the eye.

"You and him. Ever since he got here, you've spent nearly every minute with him. Nearly forgotten you've got a brother and sister at home. All right, you've got eyes for him, I get it. But is this just going to be a summer fling, or are you going to be like this after I go back to school? Because if that's the case, I'm going to change my mind about going back."

They stared at each other, Aberforth with an expression of cool contempt, Albus with one of disbelief.

"It is not a 'summer fling,'" Albus snapped. "And it's not just an infatuation. He feels the same way, he told me he's never met anyone like me, and I've never met anyone like him. We're in love, and it's not going to change just because you don't like it. I know it's not something you can understand, you'd rather just marry one of the goats—"

His words were cut off by Aberforth's spell, and a second later everything went dark and Albus felt something sticky touching his face. He reached his hand up, but before it made it to his head, he made contact with a smooth, cool surface.

Albus rolled his eyes and waved his wand, and the pumpkin disappeared from around his head. He could see again, and Aberforth still had his wand pointed at him, seething.

"Say what you want about me," Aberforth said. "But your obsession with this creep is coming at the cost of you taking care of Ariana, and I'm not going to let her suffer just because you're too blinded by 'love' to see what's right in front of you."

It took all of Albus's self-control not to send a jinx back at Aberforth. He forced himself to turn away, turn back to their supper. His hands were shaking. He didn't want to admit that his brother was right about his neglect of his sister, and he promised himself that would change. He would prove to Aberforth that he could take care of Ariana and be with Gellert at the same time. He wasn't going to let Aberforth abandon his education, and he wasn't going to prove Aberforth right.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Just to show Aberforth that he could spend days with Gellert while still being an attentive brother, Albus made Ariana's favorite breakfast the next morning and took the time to explain to her that he would be out with Gellert most of the day, but he would be home that evening. He explained to her that he just needed to check some things, but just because he was out for part of the day didn't mean he was leaving for good. He reassured her that he loved her and that everything he did was in the spirit of taking care of her. He didn't leave the house until he felt sure that she would be all right.

His concern for her soon left his mind as he hurried to the Godric's Hollow Cemetery, where Gellert was already waiting for him at Ignotus Peverell's grave. They spent the morning and a large part of the afternoon searching the place, comparing the graves to names in the wizarding genealogy book and trying to trace the Peverell line through the generations. Albus discovered that the other two Peverell brothers had been buried here as well, which meant that, wherever else they might be now, the cloak was not the only Hallow that had originated here. They knew that the wand would have travelled furthest, but they inspected headstone after headstone with the stone in mind as well as the cloak.

While it was lovely to spend the day out in the sunshine and with Gellert's company, excited for what they were planning, the names in the graveyard didn't offer much more information than the genealogy book had. Though it was sometimes possible to guess a married daughter's maiden name if she was buried next to her parents or unmarried sister, more often than not, women were buried with their husband's families, their maiden names were anyone's guess, and it was impossible to tell who the daughters married. By midafternoon, when the sun was beating hard on their necks and sweat dripped down their faces, the boys agreed to call it a day.

Conscious of the fact that he'd left his siblings alone for hours already, Albus suggested they retire to his home rather than Bathilda's. This time, he made sure his brother was out of earshot before they discussed anything. They drew their own attempt at a family tree on parchment, partly copied from the genealogy books, partly from their notes at the cemetery.

After much discussion and argument ("I know there were dozens of Potters in the cemetery, Albus, but I'm sure they're all Muggles even if the name does go back far enough."), the best they could do was copy down a list of potential surnames that might possess the Hallows, agreeing to memorize it in the hope that they'd come across one or another of the names somewhere and possibly get more information. All the same, they knew it was just as likely the true possessors of the cloak and the stone were not on the list at all, were wizards or witches they'd never heard of.

Instead, the young men focused their attention on trying to track down the other Hallow. The Elder Wand would probably be easiest to find because it had frequently cropped up in history. It passed not from father to son or mother to daughter, but from duelist to duelist as each wizard slaughtered the last and took the wand for his own. Many people had heard of the wand, and there were always whispered rumors as to its whereabouts. True, it hadn't been heard of for decades, but that did not bother Gellert or Albus. They could research. They could try and ask the British wandmaker, Ollivander, if he knew anything about the wand. They did know that even if he possessed the information, they might have to enchant the truth out of him, but that bothered neither of the boys.

"We'd perform a Memory Charm on him," Gellert pointed out. "He'd never know."

"I could brew some Veritaserum," Albus said. "It was on NEWTs, I got an Outstanding barely trying. The examiner said it was the best batch he'd ever seen—and then admitted that he'd failed his own Potions NEWT and always had to ask his wife to brew potions for him."

Gellert snickered. "Maybe we should get started, then. It'll take over a month to make, and we won't know how soon we'll need it."

"All right," Albus agreed. "You think we'll be able to get all the ingredients? I know my mum had some stuff, but we might have some trouble with the rarer things like lolabug venom and chizpurfle carapace."

"I'm not worried," Gellert insisted. "Aunt Bathilda makes lots of potions. I should be able to find what we need. And worse comes to worst, we make a day trip to Knockturn Alley."

Albus scoffed. "I can't go. Aberforth would go crazy if I even suggested it. Besides, Knockturn Alley's got a bad reputation; I can't be seen there."

"Who cares who sees you?" Gellert said. "In a few months, your reputation will be unrecognizable. Yes, some people won't agree with what we're doing, but before long, they'll see. No one will care—or even remember—a trip you made to a shady street as part of the greatest Wizarding revolution of all time."

Albus grinned. "True. But even so. I should stay. You can manage it yourself."

"And it's only if we can't find all the ingredients anyway."

They were interrupted by Aberforth coming inside, and fell silent immediately.

"Well, I should get going," Gellert sighed as the younger brother glared at him. "I'll see you later, Albus."

"Bye," Albus said, disappointed to see him go.

He and Aberforth exchanged a look after Gellert left, but Albus turned away. He didn't want to have another fight. Instead, he went up to his room and wrote a letter to Gellert, continuing the conversation they hadn't been able to finish. As he watched his owl soar over the roofs separating him from his new best friend, confidant, and partner, he couldn't help thinking how he longed to follow it into Gellert's room himself.

—

"And what are you doing with those?" Aberforth's eyes narrowed at his older brother as he watched him head for the front door with a large cauldron of potion ingredients in his arms.

"Not your—"

"So this isn't my business either?" Aberforth interrupted, sparks flying from the end of his wand. "That's Mum's entire stock of ingredients you've got there, and I need half of them to make more Calming Draft, since you never did even though you said you would."

"I'll do it today," Albus said, avoiding Aberforth's eyes and putting the cauldron down to grab a recipe book from the shelf. "Besides, I don't think you ought to anyway—it's not exactly a first-year-level potion, and for something as important as taking care of Ariana, it should be done right."

"Well get on it then," Aberforth snapped. "Where are you going anyway?"

"Where do you think?"

"I thought the two of you had agreed to plan your overthrow of the country from here so you could keep an eye on our sister."

"Well as you can obviously see, we're going to be brewing potions today, and maybe I don't to risk my sister's safety by leaving them out somewhere she can get into them," Albus said coldly. Then he muttered under his breath, "And where we won't be overheard by nosing underage gits."

Aberforth folded his arms. "And what exactly is it you're making?" he asked. "Polyjuice Potion?" he suggested, glancing at the title of the old book under Albus's arm.

"For the dozenth time, not your business!" Albus said, grabbing up the cauldron and slamming the front door behind him.

His fit of anger ended as soon as he'd closed the door. Polyjuice Potion, that probably wasn't a bad idea. He wondered what other potentially dangerous—but potentially very useful—brews the book described and decided to go through it with Gellert later that day.

They were brewing the potion in Gellert's closet. Bathilda might not have taken to listening at doors as Aberforth had, but she would likely recognize anything they intended to make and would not take kindly to an illegal potion under her roof.

"I've never done this before," Albus said excitedly as he and Gellert laid the ingredients out on his bed to take an inventory.

"Brewed Veritaserum?" Gellert asked, glancing at him. "You just told me you had."

"Yes, but that was for an exam," Albus explained. "This...what I meant was...I've never broken the law before."

Gellert snorted, finding the page in _Moste Potente Potions_ with the Veritaserum recipe. "This is nothing," he said. "Besides, I don't think it's illegal just to make the potion—I think the point of law-breaking comes when we actually give it to someone."

"I suppose," Albus said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching Gellert compare what they had against the list in the book. His hands looked strong, the skin smooth and unblemished as he held the book in his hands. The tattoo-like mark was likely still on his palm, hidden by the book's cover—Albus's still was, and he wondered vaguely if the sign had been permanent. If he wanted to erase it, he likely could; the spell hadn't seemed irreversible or anything. But he didn't want that at all. He wanted Gellert to press their palms together with the symbol between them again. He wanted those strong, soft hands to run themselves up and down Albus's body while he in turn pressed his marked palm against Gellert's skin. He shivered involuntarily, and Gellert looked up at him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Albus said quickly, looking away before Gellert could notice him blush. He got off the bed and stood behind Gellert to read over his shoulder. "So have we got everything? I was thinking—if we do need to stop and get more ingredients, we ought to get some for some of the other potions in here as well. I bet there are a bunch of things that it would come in handy to have a stock of for later. Polyjuice, for example."

Gellert looked at Albus over his shoulder and grinned. "Listen to Mr Never-Broken-the-Law-Before. I'm starting to worry I'm a bad influence on you."

"Of course you're not!" Albus folded his arms and held Gellert's gaze. "You think I didn't want to change the world before I met you? You think I didn't know I could?"

"Of course you knew," Gellert said. "And of course I knew. Either of us could do it on our own, Albus, of course we could individually if we wanted to. But it would be hard to go at it alone, even with the Hallows. But together…"

Their eyes met. "And together with the Hallows," Albus continued.

"We'd be...unstoppable," Gellert breathed, a wonderful fire in his eyes that made Albus catch his breath as he stared. "The wand, Albus," Gellert groaned, closing his eyes and turning back to their ingredient inventory. "Can you imagine? The unbeatable wand in our hands?"

"The Resurrection Stone," Albus sighed, thinking longingly of his whole family united at last.

"Yes," Gellert said. "Think of what we could do with it. Think of all the people—at our command, to do our bidding."

"Because of course we'll need the support," Albus cut in. "We'll need to get people on our side. We ought to think about that, Gellert, because we'll need to organize carefully."

"Of course, but we must focus on the Hallows first," Gellert said. "And no one can know about them but us. How many lives have been lost over the Elder Wand not from the enemies of those it carried—but by the owners' supposed friends? We cannot even thinking of recruiting any others to our cause until we have that wand, and preferably the stone as well."

"Naturally," Albus said, pleased they were on the same wavelength.

"Okay," Gellert said a moment later, completing the last ingredient with a flourish of his quill. "Now get the book out, read out the ingredients and let's see what we might still need."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Albus's heart felt as light as the air as he packed his bag the next morning. As it turned out, there were several potion ingredients they still needed for Veritaserum and Polyjuice, and after much persuading, Albus had agreed that it wouldn't hurt for him to accompany Gellert to London. When he thought about it, it really wasn't any worse than spending the day at Bathilda's. Certainly, it was farther from Aberforth and Ariana mileage-wise, but since he could Apparate, what did it matter? Technically, it would take him less time to get back from London by Apparating than it would from Bathilda's by walking.

Any guilt he might have had over leaving his siblings for the day was quashed with these simple, well-reasoned arguments, and he hurried excitedly downstairs for a quick bite of breakfast before departing.

Aberforth and Ariana were already eating when he arrived, Ariana looking quite well and healthy. "Morning, Albus," she said cheerfully as he arrived at the table.

"Hi," he said automatically, dropping into a chair and taking a piece of toast from the pile Aberforth was buttering. "What are you up to today?"

"Ab and I are going to reread the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ after breakfast," Ariana announced happily. "We found it yesterday. We haven't read them since I was little. Do you want to read with us? I remember—you used to do voices."

"I can't, Ariana, sorry," Albus said, Summoning a teacup from the cupboard and pouring tea in it with another quick flick of his wand. "I'll be out most of the day. Maybe if you want to save me one of the stories, I'll have time after supper."

"Now where are you going?" Aberforth demanded.

"Does it matter?" Albus said.

"I suppose not," Aberforth replied coldly. "Anywhere isn't here."

"I've said I'll be back by suppertime," Albus said, rolling his eyes. "You're fourteen and fifteen, not four and five. You don't need me here every second."

The doorbell rang, and Albus jumped from his seat. "Got to go," he said, gulping his tea and cramming a piece of toast into his mouth before snatching up his bag and heading for the door.

He quite thought Aberforth shouted something after him, but he couldn't hear what it was and forgot about it the moment he stepped outside.

Gellert looked simply radiant in the early morning sunlight. He'd pulled his long hair back for the trip, though a few blond strands fell casually across his forehead and into his eyes. Albus thought of brushing them back with his hand, then of not letting go of Gellert's face even once he'd done so.

"Ready?" Gellert said, giving Albus a smile that threw his heart rate into overdrive.

"Yes," Albus breathed, and he reached out for the hand Gellert offered. After a quick glance around the street to check that no Muggles were looking at them, they Disapparated and landed a moment later in the Leaky Cauldron. They passed quickly through the bar and into the street beyond, and Albus let out a sigh of contentment as they made their way down it. He did not have words for how good it felt to be back in the real Wizarding world, witches and wizards around every corner, reading the _Daily Prophet_ and buying dragon skin and discussing spell theories. It was almost as good as being back at Hogwarts. No one was hiding, no one was checking for Muggle eyes on them, no one was confined to a cellar. Albus imagined, as he had done nearly every day since meeting Gellert, the world they could create together, in which no witch or wizard need ever hide again. And the thought that they were here now, preparing to make that happen—he couldn't imagine choosing to stay home with Aberforth and Ariana instead.

"The apothecary first, yeah?" Gellert said in Albus's ear, and Albus nodded.

"Only just browse," he reminded him. "We don't want to be remembered asking funny questions. If they haven't got something we need, we'll just look elsewhere."

"Right," Gellert said with a grin. "Can't have you risking your flawless reputation."

A few people on the street had recognized Albus already, waved at him from across the way, though he had fortunately managed to avoid conversation thus far.

To Albus's disappointment, but not complete surprise, the apothecary did not supply them with everything they needed for their planned potions. They were one ingredient short on both Veritaserum and Polyjuice, and it was looking like they'd have no choice but to stop down Knockturn Alley to get them.

"I can go, don't worry about it," Gellert said once they were back outside the shop, looking through their purchases. He lowered his voice. "I know I do tease you about it, but you've got a point—too many people recognize you, and we can't arouse suspicion if we need to interrogate Ollivander in a few weeks. The last thing we want is to put him on his guard, and if he hears a rumor that you might have been making illegal purchases…"

"You sure you'll be all right on your own?" Albus asked nervously. "You are just sixteen, and the wizards you find in Knockturn Alley...they aren't…"

"You think I can't take care of myself?" Gellert said with a grin, and Albus blushed. "I'll be just fine, Albus. We'll meet back in the Leaky Cauldron in an hour, all right?"

Albus nodded, and Gellert gave his hand a quick squeeze before taking off. After he left, Albus strode back up the street, looking from shop to shop trying to think of other things that might come in useful for their plans. As he reached Flourish and Blotts, he hesitated. It was his favorite shop in the place, by far—indeed, he couldn't think of a time he'd ever walked by without going in. Surely there were any number of books in there that would be useful for his plans with Gellert: more potions they hadn't thought of, perhaps; histories of other Wizarding revolutions, successful and less so, that might provide helpful tips and ideas; and possibly very advanced magic—Albus tried hard not to think _Dark Magic_ —that they might want to learn. On the other hand, if he was seen researching things that potentially crossed into Dark territory, that could be just as harmful as buying dangerous potion ingredients in Knockturn Alley.

As with the apothecary, Albus decided to start by just browsing in the bookstore, trying to act nonchalant and avoid being remembered. This plan quickly came to nothing, however—Albus had frequented the shop so often over the last few years that the owner knew him, and he hadn't been inside two minutes before the man was upon him, apparently delighted by his patronage.

"Mr Dumbledore, so wonderful to see you!" Mr Knight beamed, giving Albus a bow. He was a beanpole of a man with awkward elbows that were always in danger of knocking books over and a brown mustache that from a distance looked wider than his whole body. "We've just got the newest Littleton in, only last week. Nearly sold out already, but I set aside a copy just for you."

"For me?" Albus said, nonplussed.

"Oh, of course! Follow me, it's in the back. Knew you'd want it after your in-depth analysis of his last volume. Professor Dippet sent to me a few months ago, and I recall how astonished I was that you'd managed such a thorough reading while simultaneously revising for your NEWTs."

Memories flew back to Albus of hours in the library poring over the Defense Against the Dark Arts book and completing the final essay of the year before full-time NEWT revision replaced their homework. He'd privately been quite pleased with his work and felt his Outstanding well-deserved. It seemed a lifetime ago.

"I'm glad you liked it," Albus managed to say. "So kind of you to think of me, I'd be delighted to read his next book."

"I sent your essay on to Professor Littleton as well. Haven't heard back yet, but of course he's been so busy with the printing of his book. We're trying to organize a signing as well—tell you what, I'll let you know when it is, and you can meet him in person!"

"That sounds great," Albus said, already planning excuses not to go while reflecting inwardly at how much this opportunity would have excited him a few months ago. He followed Mr Knight into the back of the shop while nodding along to what he said and feigning enthusiasm when his reserved copy of the new book was produced. He managed to work in a question about books on the Statute of Secrecy—if he and Gellert were planning to overturn it, as thorough a knowledge of its history as possible was essential.

"Oh, there are dozens!" the man said delightedly, leading Albus into the history section of the shop. "Now I know you would appreciate this one—not a big seller, but I found it captivating. Written by a husband and wife together, and the husband was a Muggle! Fascinating, eh? Such a unique perspective on the subject."

"Yes," Albus agreed, picking up the book and glancing at it before putting it under his arm with the Littleton book.

"And of course there's the simple fact-based history, a collection of pro and con essays spanning almost a thousand years, international discussions…"

Albus ended up choosing about five books, though he wished he could be left alone long enough to browse the rest of the shop.

"Some very in-depth research you must be doing," Mr Knight commented as he rang up Albus's purchases. "I must say, I'm surprised you're spending your summer indoors reading—most young men your age are out exploring the world, aren't they? Or is this for career preparation? My brother works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you know, and if he hears the work you're doing on the subject, I can all but guarantee you an interview."

"Oh," Albus said, unsure how to respond as he reached into his money bag for gold. "I...I haven't really decided a career path yet. I can't leave home until my brother goes back to Hogwarts, anyway, so I kind of decided to spend the summer...researching."

"Of course you did," the man said, chortling as he took Albus's money. "Well I'll tell you what. In September, when school starts up again and you're ready to find work, you come and see me. I've got books on every magical subject that ever existed. You spend a year here, you'll meet authors and experts from astronomy to zoology and everything in between."

"You mean work here?" Albus asked, astounded. "Work for you in the shop?"

"Why not?" Mr Knight said. "Now you and I both know you're destined for greater things than a shop assistant, but it would be much more than just helping customers and counting up the till. We have to decide what we want to sell—read manuscripts before they're published and make decisions what to stock. We've got to keep up to date with the latest research, we've got to know our material to best serve our customers. You're a young man of extraordinary talent—but it wasn't just one or two subjects you got those Outstanding NEWTs in. You're so young, of course, you've got plenty of time to decide what most strikes your fancy, but I can't think of a better way to expose yourself to all sorts of occupations to help you find your passion."

"I'll...I'll give it some thought," Albus said, caught between feeling honored and exasperated. "Thanks again for all your help today. I'm really looking forward to reading the Littleton book. I'll let you know my thoughts once I've read it."

With a smile he truly hoped did not appear forced, he scurried from the shop as quickly as he politely could.

Gellert was already waiting for him in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Sorry I'm late," Albus said, setting the bag of books down on the ground at their feet. "I couldn't shake the owner of Flourish and Blotts. He kept trying to offer me a job."

Gellert laughed. "Well don't let me keep you from your dream, Albus. If it's that important to you, I can go find the Hallows on my own while you stock shelves with spellbooks."

"Shut up," Albus said, laughing as well. "So did you get them?"

"Of course," Gellert said.

"You didn't run into any trouble?"

"I wouldn't say trouble," Gellert said. "Met some idiot who was trying to sell invisibility cloaks for 5 galleons."

"Must have been a top-notch product at that price," Albus said with a snigger. "Did you tell him you'd soon be in possession of the greatest invisibility cloak in existence?"

"No," Gellert said simply. "I put a Disillusionment Charm on his robes so he flashed the whole street and then apologized for misunderstanding what he meant by 'invisibility cloak.'"

Albus roared with laughter, and Gellert smirked in appreciation. "So what do you say?" he said. "A quick Butterbeer before we head back?"

How could Albus possibly refuse?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Once they returned to Godric's Hollow, Gellert went back to Bathilda's to immediately get started on the two potions, and Albus went home to begin reading up on the Statute of Secrecy.

"You're back," Ariana said happily as he came through the door.

"Of course," Albus said, setting his bag of purchases on the floor beside the kitchen table. "I said I'd be."

"What did you buy?" Aberforth asked, eyeing the bag suspiciously.

Albus rolled his eyes. "They're just books, Aberforth," he said, watching his younger brother begin to rummage through it. "Nothing dangerous about books."

"These are all on the Statute of Secrecy," Aberforth said, his tone not mollified. "What exactly are you and that kid planning?"

"Well speaking of books," Ariana cut in, holding up the small copy of the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ before any further arguing could ensue, "We saved you one of the stories, Albus. Will you read with us?"

Albus hesitated. He was quite anxious to get up to his room and read the books that he'd purchased. It would be essential to his and Gellert's plans to know as much about the Statute of Secrecy as possible, and he'd been hoping to get through at least one of the books tonight so he could discuss it with Gellert tomorrow.

"I think he has some more important reading to do," Aberforth said snidely, putting his arm around Ariana. "Let's go, Ari. We can finish it together. We'll sit out back in the sun."

"What? No," Ariana said. "Please, Albus. Just one story. It's your favorite, the _Tale of the Three Brothers_ , it won't be long. Just the one and then you can go up and read your own books. Please."

Albus's interest was piqued. The _Tale of the Three Brothers_. The tale of the three Hallows. He'd thought of rereading it after he'd first gone to the graveyard with Gellert, but he hadn't been able to find the book and hadn't thought it was worth his time to look for it since he knew the story quite well anyway. "Of course I'll read with you, Ariana," Albus said, unable to keep a note of defiance in his voice as his eyes landed on Aberforth. "Would you like to sit outside, or would you prefer to go downstairs?"

"Outside," she said, her blue eyes lighting up at the thought. "Oh, see, Ab? I told you he would."

Aberforth crossed his arms as Albus followed his sister out the back door into the garden, his chin raised.

Albus and Ariana sat on a bench in the sun with Aberforth leaning against the goat pen, watching them. He found the page in the book with the tale, but his eyes followed the mark still visible on his palm rather than the title. He flicked them quickly to the first lines of the story, and read aloud, "There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight…"

He paid more attention to the story than he had in years. When he got to each of the Hallows, he said their names with reverence. By the end of the story, his thoughts had returned to his plans to seek them out with Gellert. "...And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."

Albus closed the book, and Ariana sighed contentedly. "It's been so long since we've read these. They're sweet stories, aren't they?"

"This one is more than just sweet, Ari," Albus said. "The three brothers were real. They lived here in Godric's Hollow."

"They were?" Ariana said, surprised. "How do you know?"

"Gellert and I found them in the cemetery. The Hallows are real too, and we're going to find them."

"Hallows?" Ariana said. She looked from Albus back to Aberforth, who hadn't moved. "What's a Hallow?"

"The three objects the brothers had," Albus explained quickly. "The wand, the stone, and the invisibility cloak. We're going to find them, we're going to get them. And do you know what we're going to do when we find the Resurrection Stone, Ari? We're going to bring back Mum and Dad."

"You cannot be serious," Aberforth said, rolling his eyes and approaching the pair of them. "How can you possibly think—"

"Why not?" Albus cut in. "There have always been stories about powerful wands changing hands. Why not the others as well?"

"What has that boy done to you?" Aberforth said. "He takes the smartest wizard of his generation and convinces him to believe in a children's tale? Why not just seek out Death and get three new Hallows while you're at it?"

"I don't know that the whole thing is real," Albus said. "The Death part is probably made up. But—"

"The whole thing is made up, Albus!" Aberforth said. "It's a story for little kids!"

Albus ignored him and turned back to his sister. "What do you think about that, Ari? Of bringing Mum and Dad back?"

Ariana traced the embossed "Beedle" on the front of the book and didn't look at Albus. "I don't know," she said at last. "I miss Mum a lot, but I don't know if she could come back, even with a Resurrection Stone. Even if it's real, the lady in the story who came back, she wasn't happy."

"It would be different though," Albus said. "They'd be so happy to see us. They'd want to take care of us again."

"Maybe," Ariana said thoughtfully.

Albus stood up. "And now I do have to go inside," he said. "Because I've got to read the new books I bought today. Because once we have the Hallows, Gellert and I—"

"You're going to overturn the Statute of Secrecy?" Aberforth said sardonically.

Albus put his hand on Ariana's shoulder and looked his brother straight in the eye. "If it hadn't been for the Statute of Secrecy, Ariana would never have been attacked and Dad would never have gone to Azkaban. He might still be alive today, and Mum certainly would."

"Albus!" Aberforth said in a warning voice, looking at Ariana. She had begun to tremble.

"Let's get inside," Albus said, tightening his grip on Ariana's shoulder. "Come on, Ari."

But her shaking had become even more violent, and one of the goats began to rise into the air, bleating loudly at this frightening new phenomenon.

"You take care of that!" Aberforth shouted at Albus, running to Ariana and taking her hand. "Let's go, Ariana." He hurried into the house with her even as a few other goats joined the first, adding a chorus of terrified bleats to the afternoon air. Albus waved his wand, and the goats sank safely back to the ground. He then quickly followed his brother and sister back in the house and found Ariana sitting in a chair with Aberforth kneeling in front of her. She was still shaking, but she didn't seem to have performed any more inadvertent magic.

"You're okay," Aberforth was telling her, holding one of her hands in his and stroking her hair with the other. "You know you've done nothing wrong, nothing's wrong."

"And it's all going to be all right," Albus said. "We're going to make it all right. Once we—"

A look from Aberforth silenced him. But he finished the thought in his head. Once he and Gellert got the Hallows, they would change the world, and Ariana would be free and no attacks like hers, no accidental deaths like their mothers, would ever happen again.

—

Albus woke with a start to a banging on his door.

"Your stupid friend is here!"

This was followed by a much gentler knock and a much gentler, much more welcome voice. "Albus? Are you up?"

An involuntary smile crossed Albus's face at the sound of Gellert's voice, and the familiar warmth filled his body. "Just a minute," he called, hurrying out of bed and finding a dressing gown to pull over his nightshirt. Even as he did so, he idea of opening the door to Gellert without the dressing gown made him shiver. He thought of Gellert here in his bedroom with him, and his heart began to race. He pulled the dressing gown on nevertheless before opening the door, and his smile at Gellert was shy. "Sorry, I must have overslept. I think I fell asleep reading—I don't remember going to bed."

Gellert smiled. "I know the feeling," he said. He walked past Albus into the bedroom and knelt beside the bed, picking up the book that had fallen there. " _The Two Sides of the Secret: An In-Depth Analysis on the Consequences of the Statute of Secrecy from Magic and Non-Magic Perspectives._ Non-magic perspectives?" he repeated, looking up at Albus. "What's that mean? How can they get a non-magic perspective without breaking the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Well we're allowed to tell Muggles about us if we're related to them or if we marry them," Albus pointed out. "A married couple wrote this—witch wife, Muggle husband. It was really interesting." He took the book from Gellert and tried to find the section he'd been reading the previous night. "It's funny, they talk about how necessary the Statute is for ways of life on both sides, but listen to this. 'While I lament the fact that I must lie to my parents about where we send our daughters to school and make excuses for not entertaining friends at our home, I cannot deny the joy it has brought me to have magic in my life. Aside from my dear Filipa, whom I could love no more or less for whatever her magical status may be'—yes, he makes sure to drone on and on about how much he loves his wife—'it has become most convenient for every misplacement of my spectacles to be solved with a simple Summoning Charm, for colds to be cured in a trice with a dash of Pepperup Potion, and for long journeys to have become a thing of the past with Filipa's amazing ability to Apparate me anywhere I may need to go.' I mean, what a hypocrite," Albus said, closing the book and putting it on his nightstand. "The both of them are pro-Statute of Secrecy—strongly, they claim—but how convenient that that's for all the other Muggles, not for him. He loves being married to a witch, it's the best thing that's ever happened to him."

"Of course it is," Gellert said. "But not for her, I'm sure. Did you hear how he expects her to do everything for him just because she can do magic and he can't? Lazy scum. The wife's got it all wrong. And it sounds like she's a hypocrite too—support the Statute of Secrecy, but only at your convenience, then break it when you meet a man you fancy?"

"She does point out that there are times when it becomes necessary to 'bend the rules,'" Albus said, glancing at the book again. "And she talked about the frustration of the courtship—because that's the thing, if you're going to marry the man, you've got to tell him sometime, but when to do it? You can't do it early on because what if you split up and he starts blabbing? But once you've already fallen in love, you risk him breaking your heart if he can't take the news."

Gellert shrugged. "If you like him that much, you just do a Memory Charm, meet him all over again, and try a better tack this time around."

Albus laughed. "It was an interesting read. She believes in the Statute of Secrecy but she acknowledges her frustrations with it at the same time."

Gellert shook his head. "But she wouldn't have any frustrations to begin with if it was never there in the first place. The only way everyone got what they wanted was by breaking it. She got to marry the man she loved even if he's a total buffoon—so why she'd want to marry him, I've no idea—and he got the best deal of all, he's got magic in his life. Everyone benefits. You see, Albus." His eyes were on fire again, that passion that took over him, that brightened his face with such light that Albus was drawn to like a moth. "Obviously it's good for us, to no longer be constrained by their stupid rules, to hide like criminals on the run, to prevent tragedies like what happened to your sister. But it's good for the Muggles too. Sure, they won't have their personal witch or wizard slaves like this man, but imagine the benefit for them. Muggles suffer diseases that we can cure in an instant. They spend hours on labor that we find effortless. Of course it's more important that we get what we need from them, but they get what they need from us too. I can't believe that no one has seen it before. It's not only for us. It's for the Muggles' own good."

"Of course it is," Albus breathed.

At that moment, his stomach gave a loud growl, and Gellert laughed. "Some breakfast, perhaps?" he said in a teasing voice. "I can get something started while you get dressed. Unless…" he added, giving Albus's body a sweep with his eyes. "...you'd like me to stay for that?"

Albus thought his face might likely burst into flames, so deep was his blush at this nevertheless thrilling idea. Gellert laughed with delight at his reaction, kissed him quick on his red cheek, and departed the room to give him some privacy while he changed.

—

Albus and Gellert spent the entire day in discussion about the Statute of Secrecy. They glanced over passages of the books Albus had bought, taking notes and exchanging ideas. At this early stage of the revolution, the thought still seemed impossible—they were two teenage boys against the world. But then he reminded himself of the Hallows, and that would change everything.

They needed the Hallows, and they needed a plan for precisely what they hoped to accomplish—goals to work toward. "A manifesto," Gellert said, and Albus nodded.

"Of course," he said. "Because once we've got the Hallows—only afterwards, of course, like we've said—we will need followers, and it will help to have something written down. Sound, logical reasoning for those who want to argue against us."

"You ought to do the actual writing, I think," Gellert said, flipping through one of the Statute of Secrecy books. "You're better with a quill than I am. We can start planning an outline for it though, that we can do together."

"Yes, and we ought to finish these before we really get started, don't want to overlook anything important."

"Only don't stay up too late reading this time," Gellert said, grinning at Albus. "Won't want another late start like this morning, do we?"

"I don't know, if the morning starts with you coming into my bedroom, then I wouldn't mind it," Albus said. He smiled at Gellert and knew he was blushing again, though not so hard as he had earlier, and was able to meet his eye.

Gellert laughed and kissed Albus again, on the lips this time. "We'll see," he said. "But maybe next time, don't be in such a hurry to cover up before you let me in."

Albus did manage to set himself a time limit for his reading, but it was easier than it had been last night—fascinating as the books were, he found his mind wandering and unable to concentrate on the words in front of him. Gellert's face kept appearing out of the pages, smiling at Albus with those enthralling eyes of his, that wonderfully wild, wicked grin. Smiling to himself, Albus attempted to return his focus to the book.

 _...and though many called it a loss of freedom, in the end, the Confederation agreed that the greatest good would be served by this small sacrifice._

But that was wrong, though. Going into hiding had done no good at all—Ariana was proof of that. What he and Gellert were doing was where the greatest good would come from, and any small sacrifices made there would be for the greater good, not sacrifices like lying to the world about one's identity and hiding one's talents out of fear of those without power.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Albus had Summoned parchment and quill from his desk drawer and was scribbling a note to Gellert, like he had taken to doing several times when he could not stop thinking about him in the night. He knew it wasn't necessary, but Gellert wrote him sometimes too, and besides, he wanted to get his thoughts out while they were fresh. He wrote about what they'd spoken about that day, what he'd read, struck by how important this all was. He thought about the history he was reading about the Statute's institution, how more history books would be written about its demise. He and Gellert would be in these books. For all he knew, this very letter, if it was not lost or destroyed by time, could be reproduced in a history book.

Albus signed his name, as he always did in this nighttime letters to Gellert, with the Deathly Hallows symbol in place of the letter A, and as the scroll flew off with his owl, he examined the black mark Gellert had placed in his hand. Was it his imagination, or was the sign fading? Albus traced it with his left forefinger, slightly concerned. He didn't know exactly what spell Gellert used to put it there, and though he thought of several that could replicate it, it wouldn't be the same. He closed his fist tightly, hiding the mark from view, and kissed his knuckles. Whether the mark was fading or it was just Albus's imagination, his resolve had not faded. They were just at the beginning.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"I've begun it," Gellert announced when Albus arrived at Bathilda's the next day.

"Begun what?" Albus said, giving a quick smile and nod to Bathilda as he and Gellert made for the stairs.

"The manifesto," Gellert said, lowering his voice so it wouldn't carry back down to Bathilda.

They entered his bedroom, where the faint smell of the two brewing potions came from the closet. Albus went over to check on them while Gellert produced a piece of parchment from a writing desk beside the bed. Glancing at him, Albus was pleased to see that the letter he'd written Gellert last night had been tacked to the wall.

Once he'd satisfied himself that the potions were brewing correctly, he was even more pleased to see the parchment that Gellert had prepared, which said "For The Greater Good" at the top with the Deathly Hallows symbol above it.

"I told you you're better with this stuff than I am," Gellert said, squeezing Albus's shoulder. "I could never have thought of a slogan like that. But can you think of anything more perfect?"

Albus shook his head. He hadn't even meant it like that really, not necessarily, but now that he did think of it, it was a very apt summary of what they intended to do.

"I am so lucky to have you, Albus," Gellert sighed. "How do you think the potions are coming on?"

"Quite well," Albus said. He went with Gellert to look at them more closely and examine the next steps in the potion books, but as he did so, he couldn't help thinking that Gellert was wrong. It was he, Albus, who was the lucky one.

—

Albus had wanted to spend all day at Bathilda's with Gellert, but family obligations called, and he returned to his home in the middle of the afternoon. Still, it had been a relief to disappear for a few hours, and all was fine when he returned home, so no harm done.

The three siblings were in the middle of a quiet supper when the front door burst open and Gellert appeared.

"Albus," he said, rushing into the kitchen. "I hope it's not too late to talk. I've been reading that book of essays, and I've just thought—"

His words were drowned out by a scream. Ariana had ducked under the kitchen table, her arms around her knees like a small child, and suddenly the pot of soup on the table exploded, showering Albus and Aberforth with hot liquid. Their two shouts of pain and surprise mingled with Ariana's screaming.

"You just come barging in here!" Aberforth yelled, pulling out his wand to get the scalding soup off himself. "Get out! Get out now!"

Gellert did not move but to look at Albus, who was now trying stop a bunch of unused potatoes from escaping out the window. He managed to shoot Gellert an apologetic look before nodding. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, raising his voice to be heard over his sister. No sooner had he finished his sentence than the kitchen chairs, which Albus and Aberforth had fortunately vacated, began ripping apart and flying about the room. Ariana was still under the table, half-screaming, half-sobbing, and Aberforth was down there with her, trying to hush her.

As soon as Albus managed to stop one thing, there came another. A small raincloud had gathered near the ceiling and managed a bolt of lightning that nearly set one of the newly repaired chairs on fire.

"Calming Draft!" Albus shouted over the sound of Ariana and the downpour. "Aberforth, get her some Calming Draft!"

"We haven't got any!" Aberforth shouted right back, emerging from under the table. "I told you! Ages ago and again and again! And you said you'd make some! And I couldn't do it because you took all the ingredients and you kept saying you would and you would and you didn't and now look what it's done!"

As though to emphasize his point, another bolt of lightning descended from Ariana's cloud, too quick for Albus to stop with his wand, and fried a piece of celery that had escaped during the soup explosion.

"All right," Albus said crossly. "Well...get her downstairs then. Do something!"

Aberforth shot Albus a revolted look before returning, now soaked with rain, to the floor under the table where Ariana was huddled.

It took nearly an hour to calm her down. Every time they nearly thought they had her, she began to apologize again for getting upset—which just upset her further and caused another upsurge of uncontrollable magic.

Aberforth was livid with Albus, who returned stonily to his room once the ordeal was over. He retrieved his old cauldron from his school trunk, then remembered that all the ingredients were still at Gellert's. Suddenly struck by a nearly overwhelming urge to cry, Albus managed to collect himself by clutching at his own elbows, reminding himself to be brave like the Gryffindor he was, and comforting himself with the knowledge that he would see Gellert in a moment—he had no choice.

Cauldron in hand and face composed, Albus Disapparated straight from his bedroom to just outside Bathilda's door. She opened at his knock, looking surprised to see him, and he muttered a quick apology before hurrying upstairs to Gellert's room.

"Albus!" Gellert said, immediately vacating the bed and tossing aside the book he'd been reading. "What happened? Is everything all right?"

Albus did not answer him. Without a word, he strolled to the closet, set up his cauldron next to the two that were already simmering, and began to collect the ingredients he knew by memory and add them one by one.

"Albus." The voice was soft this time, gentle as Gellert watched Albus cross the room with a handful of chamomile roots he needed to chop up for the potion. Albus avoided his eye as he sat at the writing desk and began to chop. He jumped as a hand touched his arm but continued his work. These needed to be chopped, they needed to be perfect for the potion. "Albus, what's the matter?"

The roots were cut into fine pieces and ready for the potion before Albus responded, and he was alarmed at the quaver in his voice. "I forgot," he choked, scooping up the roots and hurrying back to add them to the cauldron. He stirred hastily, counting the strokes of the spoon, before reaching for the next ingredient. "I meant to make Ariana's Calming Draft, but I forgot, and it's my fault she had an episode tonight."

Gellert sighed and walked over to Albus. Standing behind him, he put his arms around Albus's waist. Albus melted into him, putting down the box of flitterbloom seeds and allowing the tears to fall at last.

"It was an accident," Gellert whispered into Albus's ear, stroking his arm. "You've been busy, Albus. We've been busy."

"That's just it," Albus whispered back, managing deep breaths to try and stem the flow of tears. "We've been so busy trying to save the world it's made me forget about my sister."

"Forget?" Gellert said, taking Albus's waist in his hands and turning him so they faced each other. "Forget? Albus, you haven't forgotten about her for one second! You're doing this for her."

"I know," Albus said. "I'm meaning to, but…"

"The greater good, remember?" Gellert said, touching the side of Albus's face. "Do you think you would be so inspired if you didn't have something strong driving you? Albus, you love your family, and don't let yourself think that by trying to help them, you're abandoning them. That's your brother talking, not you." He leaned forward and gave Albus a gentle kiss, squeezing his hand. "Let me help you with that," he said, nodding at the half-completed potion. "We'll have it ready in no time."

Perhaps it was inhaling the fumes of the Calming Draft as they completed it, but Albus felt immensely better once it was finished. He portioned it into bottles to take back to the house and managed an even dozen, which ought to last at least through autumn.

"Come sit with me," Gellert said, taking Albus's hand. As it was after midnight and Ariana would be asleep by now, Albus didn't hesitate in following him. They sat on the bed and faced each other, and Gellert took Albus's right hand in his, running his thumb over Albus's palm. Albus could not remember ever being treated with such tenderness. He'd held hands with Elf, of course, but it had never been like this. Gellert reached for his wand and began to retrace the symbol of the Deathly Hallows across Albus's skin so that it shone clear as ever. "You are a wonderful person, Albus," Gellert sighed. "Don't let one little slip of the mind make you doubt that. Think about us, think about the future, about all the good we're going to do." He squeezed Albus's hand now and looked directly into his eyes. The sparkling sapphire captured Albus as it always did, and he could not look away. "I could do it alone if I needed to, and before I met you, I thought that I would have to. But now that I have met you, now that I know who you are, I don't want to. I don't want to be alone, Albus. I want to be with you."

"I want that too," Albus whispered. "More than anything."

They leaned forward simultaneously. It was different than the times they had kissed before. Albus could feel it in the way Gellert pressed against him, the way they gripped each other's arms, the way Gellert opened his mouth against Albus's. Never had kissing Elphias been this intense. Albus's whole body trembled and tingled as they scooted closer together on the bed, getting to their knees to reach each other better, as he ran his hands up Gellert's arms to his shoulders, then held his neck and pressed deeper into him. Gellert had wrapped his arms around Albus and was holding his back, matching his urgency as their mouths moved together.

There were little fine hairs on the back of Gellert's neck, and these Albus brushed his fingers against, causing Gellert to give an involuntary shiver that broke their kiss. They both laughed softly.

"Sorry," Albus whispered.

"No, I'm sorry," Gellert said, cupping Albus's cheek in his hand. "You don't know what it means to me. How important it is to show you in this way, since I have trouble finding the words."

"Gellert," Albus said, staring at him, touched.

Gellert smiled at him. "Or maybe I don't even need the words. Maybe you already know."

Albus nodded. They spent a long moment staring into each other's faces before at last the distance between them closed once more. Albus held Gellert as tightly as he could without hurting him and hoped with all his soul that his kiss would show Gellert exactly what he meant to Albus.

—

Albus did not look at his brother and sister, even though they both glanced up at him as he entered the cellar. They were sitting on Ariana's bed and had been talking when he entered. Albus had noticed a mattress on the floor and knew Aberforth must have slept down here to keep an eye on her. It wouldn't have been the first time.

Without speaking to either of them, he replaced the stock of Calming Draft on the high shelf where potion ingredients were usually kept. He made sure the bottles scraped against the wood, calling attention to himself and what he was doing but without appearing to do so. Then, still acting as though he'd no idea either of them were in the room, he made his way back upstairs.

He heard footsteps behind him as he entered the kitchen, then Aberforth's voice. "You just got in, didn't you?"

Albus did not answer. Though he wasn't really hungry, he searched in the cupboard for some bread to toast.

"So you're spending nights with him now too? Did you shag?"

"It's none of your business!" Albus snapped, inwardly cursing himself for rising to his brother's bait.

"I bet you didn't," Aberforth said, crossing his arms. "He wouldn't even have you, would he? What does that say to you, Albus?"

"I've just said it's none of your business!" A bit of bread had turned to crumbs in his fist, but he didn't care. It hadn't bothered him, really, that he and Gellert had stopped where they had. The truth was, though it felt like a lifetime, he and Gellert had known each other less than a month. They were both young and both reasonably inexperienced, and Albus didn't want to rush something that ought to grow naturally and at its own pace. As he'd told Elphias, it would happen when it would happen.

But now that he'd met Gellert, he knew overwhelmingly that he'd made the right decision in postponing Elphias. As much as he cared for his friend, the feelings simply could not compare. After they'd finished kissing, Albus and Gellert had lain there in the dark and whispered things to one another. Sweet things. "I still just can't believe this is real, Gellert. That we've met, and that we feel this way."

Gellert ran his fingers through Albus's hair. "Albus, our meeting was destined. You must know that. And feeling this way…" he took Albus's hand in his and kissed it. "That was just inevitable."

That had been enough. And the fact that they'd fallen asleep together, that Albus had woken up in Gellert's strong arms—had been more than enough.

"Let me ask you something, Albus," Aberforth said, forcing Albus from his happy reminiscence.

"It's not as though I've got any choice in the matter," Albus said coolly, cutting a new piece of bread and flicking his wand at another cupboard for a plate.

"You and this boy are looking for the three Hallows. Let's just put aside reason for a moment and pretend they exist. Say you find the unbeatable wand, for example. There's one wand and two of you. How do you decide who gets it?"

"We share, obviously," Albus said, rolling his eyes. "You think we're going to fight over it like schoolchildren? If one of us needs to do something important, he takes the wand, and in the meantime, we both hang on to our old ones and trade off. It's not that complicated."

"Right," Aberforth said. "So how do you know, once you've helped him get the wand, that he won't use it on you once it's his turn?"

"Are you serious?" Albus said, a mirthless laugh actually escaping him. "You really think—"

"You don't know what he's capable of! You don't even know him, Albus! A Durmstrang who got expelled for doing Dark Magic. What on earth makes you think you can trust him?"

"For your information, I do know him and I do trust him!" Albus shouted back. "I love him, Aberforth, and he loves me, and we're going to do great things together, and I'm sorry you're just jealous you can't be a part of it!"

Aberforth was the one to laugh now, though the sound was as humorless as Albus's had been. "Is that what you think? Is that really what you think, that I'm jealous?"

"I know you are," Albus said, looking down at his brother. "I've seen you at school, how you hate living in my shadow, how the teachers compare us and how other students pretend to make friends with you just to get close to me. You thought that would be over with now I've left school, but then I'm back home and I meet someone just like me and now you've got to put up with that."

"You're impossible," Aberforth said, shaking his head. "I'm done. There's no reasoning with you. You go and live in your fantasy world with your Deathly Hallows and your knight in shining armor, I'm going to stay right here on Earth."

"You do that then," Albus said, turning up his nose at Aberforth. "You just sit here, perfectly content with the planet you're on, and I'm going to help change it, make it better."

—

And so it continued. Hot July shifted to muggy August, and Albus's eighteenth birthday with it. Gellert had gone back to Diagon Alley without telling Albus and produced for him a stack of books on Wizarding revolutions.

"These are wonderful, Gellert, thank you!" Albus said, delighted.

Bathilda had even baked a small cake for the occasion, and the three of them had quite a pleasant tea in her garden. She had even dusted off an old camera and taken several photographs to commemorate the day.

Aberforth's "birthday present" was a fresh set of Calming Draft ingredients that he'd had to write the apothecary for. A reminder that Gellert also agreed was unnecessarily cruel, especially given that there were twelve fresh bottles of the stuff, and they hadn't even had to use one yet. Ariana's upsets were inevitable, of course, but they usually weren't bad enough to even need Calming Draft—Aberforth usually got her settled with a few words, and any collateral damage was nearly always reversible.

Ignoring the ingredients for a potion he did not need to make, Albus and Gellert continued with the much more complex potions they did need to make. Because the brewing needed to be done so precisely and Albus was not always able to be over at the correct time, Gellert did most of the actual work, but Albus checked on it whenever he could.

In addition to continuing their potions, Albus and Gellert roamed the neighborhood, often Disillusioned together, searching for signs of magic that might help piece together their broken Peverell family tree. Bathilda was helpful on this—while Kendra had had no magical acquaintances in the village, Bathilda knew almost all of them, giving Gellert and Albus more names to attempt to trace back through the ages.

They also made progress on their manifesto, which Albus tried to write a bit of every night before bed. He finished his Statute of Secrecy books and found several excellent arguments against it, as well as a thorough understanding of the arguments for it, which he could then address and contradict one by one. He kept coming back to _for the greater good_ , and though he hadn't meant it as a slogan when he'd first written Gellert with the idea, he was glad it had become so.

As the weeks passed, their plans became more and more concrete, and the only question remaining was how soon they would be able to put them into action.

6


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"And how are the potions coming?" Albus asked, looking up at Gellert over the table. He wished he could go check on them himself, but at the same time, he had faith in Gellert's abilities.

"Very well," Gellert said, smiling. "The Polyjuice needs another week at least, but the Veritaserum is nearly there. I checked on it before I came over, and it's almost fully transparent." His smile became a smirk. "I might need to test it on you before we can be sure though."

Albus felt his heart begin to race as the heat rose in his cheeks, and he looked away as he imagined himself unwittingly revealing his darkest secrets to the boy sitting in front of him. But really, what was there that he wasn't willing to tell without a potion? Gellert already knew how Albus felt about him. They had kissed, had slept in the same bed that one time. It wasn't a secret. What was Albus afraid of Gellert finding out? Details, perhaps, of what Albus thought of him, where he found his mind wandering late at night, things he yearned to do when they were alone together. Yes, that was enough to make Albus blush and look away. Yet he didn't want to hide it. He wanted them to be together, and anything Gellert didn't know, Albus wanted him to know. He forced himself to meet the beautiful bright eyes of the beautiful boy that had so captured him, and said, "There's no need to give me any Veritaserum. Anything you want to ask, anything you want to know, I'll tell you."

Gellert laughed and leaned across the table to give Albus a quick kiss. "I know that, Albus," he said fondly. "I know." He squeezed Albus's hand on the table briefly before turning back to business. "Even so, it would probably be best to wait until both potions are ready before we set off to interrogate Ollivander. We don't know where we'll need to go after him, and it will be easier to begin the pursuit from there rather than to keep coming back here. For all we know, he knows the wizard who has it and might intend to warn them about us, so we don't want to give them a chance for that."

"I agree," Albus said. "Anything that we need to be here to do, we ought to do now since we don't know how long before we'll come back. Think, Gellert. You came to Godric's Hollow because this is where the Hallows originated. Can you think of anything else we should do to track them down while we're here?"

Gellert sighed. "Short of knocking on every door in the village and asking if they've got them?" he said. Albus smiled, and Gellert shook his head. "I mostly came just to see the place for myself, see the graves. I got what I needed out of this place. More. More than I could ever have hoped for—I got you out of it."

Albus beamed at Gellert and they shared a smile across the table for a moment. Albus hoped Gellert might kiss him again, but he did not. Later, perhaps, when they weren't so busy planning and could take a minute just for themselves, just for each other.

"We ought to make a list of supplies we'll need," Albus said at last. "We'll need to go to Diagon Alley for Ollivander, so we might as well do as much shopping as we can while we're there, before we go and see him."

"You're right," Gellert said. "Restock potion ingredients to be safe, maybe invest in a pair of fast brooms."

"A portable house?" a voice cut in from the corridor, and both Gellert and Albus's heads snapped in its direction.

Aberforth strode into the kitchen, wand clenched in his hand, glaring from one face to the other. "Do they sell those in Diagon Alley? I just assumed that would make it onto your supply list, since I can't think where else you'd put Ariana." He was at the table now, looking down at Albus from his higher vantage point. "You remember Ariana," he said. "Our sister. Our sister who is fourteen years old, who isn't well, who needs her older brothers to take care of her." Gellert might not have been in the room anymore—Aberforth's blazing blue eyes were locked on his brother's. "What are you going to do with her, Albus? I go back to Hogwarts in five days. I can't take her with me. And wherever you're going, you can't take her with you."

"You fool!" Gellert said, jumping up from his seat, his wand also suddenly in his hand. "Don't talk about what you don't understand! You eavesdrop on our conversations, you spy on us, you act all high and mighty like you know better when you have no idea!"

"I know plenty!" Aberforth bellowed back, sparks flying from his wand as he turned his attention to Gellert. "I've heard enough to know what you're planning, and it's despicable! But forget about the fact that you're planning to enslave Muggles, the fact that you know innocent people will die as part of this so-called revolution. I don't care what you're planning for your little coup d'état—I care about my sister and what you're planning with her!"

"Aberforth, we're doing this for Ariana," Albus said, unable to keep the plea from his voice as he stared between his brother and his best friend. "Gellert is right, you don't understand. We know there will be sacrifices, but it's to make life better for wizards and witches, witches like Ariana. It's for the g—"

"The greater good?" Aberforth cut in, taunting. "Tell me this, Albus. What greater good is there than your sister?"

"You ignorant little brat!" Gellert yelled. "You don't understand a thing, you're a child—"

"I'm only a year younger than you!" Aberforth snapped.

"A child!" Gellert repeated. "And you speak to us as though you're equal to us, as though anything you say will make the slightest difference! We are going to change the world, and I'm going to show you what happens to anyone— _anyone_ —who stands in our way! _Crucio!_ "

"Gellert, no!" Albus shouted, but too late. Aberforth had fallen to the floor and writhed, screaming, his wand helpless on the floor. " _Stupefy!_ " Albus shouted, rising from his seat with his wand pointed at Gellert.

Gellert blocked the curse, but he had to lift his wand from Aberforth to do so, and he shot a jinx back at Albus, who ducked under the table to miss it. Meanwhile, Aberforth lost no time scrambling back to his feet and grabbing his wand again. " _Petrificus totalus!_ " he shouted, aiming at Gellert, who managed another silent Shield Charm, and Aberforth had to duck his own curse. The spell hit a clock on the wall, which fell to the floor and shattered with a clanging that reverberated around the room. Gellert sent a stream of red light toward Aberforth, who deflected it before shouting " _Incendio!_ " Gellert's robes immediately caught fire, and he gave a roar of anger before hurrying to extinguish himself with his wand.

"Aberforth!" Albus shouted, aghast. " _Incarcerous!_ " Ropes shot out from his wand toward Aberforth and began to bind his legs, causing him to fall to the ground again.

"Whose side are you on, Albus?" Aberforth shouted angrily, releasing the ropes and rolling under the table to avoid another Stunning spell of Gellert's. He sent an Impediment Jinx at Albus this time, who levitated a chair to block it.

" _Reducto!_ " Gellert yelled, and the kitchen table exploded, bits of wood flying everywhere.

Aberforth screamed as a sharp piece impaled his arm, and Albus turned his wand on Gellert again, trying to disable him with a Leg-Locker Curse.

"Yes, Albus," Gellert said, panting as he sent curse after curse at the brothers, dodging the beams of light that came at him. "Whose side _are_ you on?"

Albus did not answer. His eyes and his wand flew from one side of the kitchen to the other, sending jinxes and deflecting jinxes and shouting incantations and Gellert and Aberforth's names.

He wouldn't be surprised if they couldn't hear him—he himself could barely hear anything. The mix of spells hitting furniture and smashing things against the walls made it impossible to tell who was casting what curse and who they were aiming for. Indeed, Albus was quite sure that all three of them had by now given up on attempting to aim for one wizard or the other. One of them had enchanted a drawer of knives to soar across the room, adding another dozen things to duck from. Albus managed to disintegrate one before it hit him in the forehead, but another left a deep gash in his shoulder. They did not stop flying when they reached the other side of the kitchen but simply changed direction with the agility of Bludgers to return for another attack.

Perhaps if the three wizards hadn't all been shouting at the top of their lungs, one of them might have noticed that a fourth voice, higher pitched than the others, had joined in the screaming. If the kitchen hadn't been obscured by jets of light from multiple directions and sharp knives and bits of furniture flying across the room, one of them might have seen the small blonde girl enter, hands over her ears and eyes squeezed tightly shut as she cried, "Stop! Stop!" Albus or Aberforth might have immediately conjured a Shield Charm that would have protected their precious sister from any damage.

But no one noticed Ariana Dumbledore enter the fray. They did not cease fire, did not lower their wands, did not replace spells intending to harm with defensive magic like Disarming. Jets of multicolored light collided in midair and ricocheted off each other, off the walls, missing Gellert and Albus and Aberforth by inches as they ducked or moved aside or deflected them. One beam of light went right at Ariana, and it did not miss. The fighters saw her at last as she rose into the air, slammed backward by the force of the curse, and flew right into a particularly sharp chef's knife that had been soaring toward the wizards with murder in its enchanted heart.

The room was suddenly silent but for the echo of Ariana's scream, and she fell to the floor with a deafening crash. Her eyes, wide open, stared blankly at the ceiling as scarlet blood began to pool around the back of her neck.

"Ari?" Aberforth's voice was hardly above a whisper, and his eyes were as wide as though they had been cursed open. "Ari? Ariana? Nooooo!" The last came out a scream, and Aberforth flew to her side and pointed his wand at her chest. " _Rennervate!_ " he screeched. A beam of red light emitted from his wand and glowed across his sister's chest before fading, with no visible effect. "No!" he screamed. " _Rennervate! Rennervate!_ "

Albus stared, open-mouthed, at the boy beginning to cry over the fallen girl.

"Ariana," Aberforth sobbed. "No! _Rennervate!_ "

So drawn were Albus's eyes to his brother and sister on the floor that he did not notice the movement over his shoulder, even when it reached his peripheral vision. It took a particularly loud step echoing through the room to divert Albus's attention, and his gaze snapped to Gellert edging toward the door. At the exact moment he realized what Gellert was about to do, he also realized that he was too late to stop it.

"Gellert, no!" he shouted, but as with the use of the Cruciatus Curse, his plea was in vain. As soon as Albus saw him, Gellert's slow sidle became a sprint for the door. It took every ounce of Albus's self-control not to race after him, and he only managed because he knew it was no use—Gellert would have Disapparated before he'd taken two steps. Instead he forced his eyes back to his brother, who was still sobbing over Ariana.

"Ari," he said, voice and wand both shaking. " _Rennervate! Rennervate!_ " The blood seeping from the back of Ariana's neck had reached the knees of his trousers, but he did not appear to have noticed. " _Rennervate!_ " he croaked.

"Aberforth," Albus whispered.

"NO!" his scream drowned out the last syllable of his own name. "Come on, Ariana," he pleaded. "Wake up. _Rennervate!_ "

"Ab, she's—"

"Don't you say it!" Aberforth's voice sounded deranged, almost inhuman, and Albus took an involuntary step back from him. He felt apart from himself, as though he was watching the scene from above. He could see himself standing in the wrecked kitchen as clearly as he could see Aberforth—who for once looked his young age of 15—crying over their dead sister. He thought of his plans with Gellert, the power they would have, and as he noticed their manifesto in ashes on the table, registered the fact that he had never felt so powerless in his entire life.

After what felt like an eternity in which the only sounds in the world were Aberforth's heaving sobs, Albus approached the pair. Aberforth did not attempt to stop him, did not even look at him. Albus knelt down, and with a slow move of his wand, Ariana's eyelids closed. A quick flick, and the blood vanished from the floor. Albus then conjured a sheet from out of nowhere, which draped itself over Ariana. As he stood back up, he saw that Aberforth had taken her hand. With gulping breaths, he tenderly lifted the sheet enough to place Ariana's hand on her stomach, then stood up beside his brother.

Neither spoke. Albus wasn't sure the power of speech remained with either of them. They stared at their sister's body for a very long moment, and at last Albus raised his wand once again to move her.

Aberforth broke back down at this and darted past Albus out to the back garden. Albus did not watch him go but levitated his sister toward the corridor. He did not bring her back to the cellar, but upstairs, to their mother's room, to the bed which had so recently been inhabited by another corpse.

4


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The funeral was two days later. Albus did not even remember making the arrangements for it, but he must have done because Aberforth certainly wasn't in any state to, yet they found themselves once again at the cemetery, Mr Abbott reading solemnly of loss of a witch he'd never met.

Elphias had managed to make it up again, though Albus barely remembered writing him. He held Albus's hand during the service, while Albus's eyes searched the empty chairs for the wizard he wanted at his side. But Gellert was nowhere to be seen. That was the one owl Albus really recalled sending, though he couldn't be sure what he'd written, or if it had even been sensical. His letter had gone unanswered though, and now Gellert was not even at the funeral.

After the small coffin had been lowered into the earth beside Kendra's and the mourners rose from their seats, Albus disengaged himself wordlessly from Elphias and walked over to Bathilda, who was consoling Aberforth.

"What a thing to happen," she was saying, shaking her head, her face stained with tears. "Such a lovely girl, so young. And you poor things, right after your mother."

"Bathilda," Albus said, interrupting her. "Where is Gellert?"

She looked taken aback at the question. "Why, didn't he tell you? He left."

"Left?" Albus repeated, feeling his heart suddenly speed up in his chest. "What do you mean? Where did he go?"

"Home, of course," Bathilda said, looking confused. "He was so upset about Ariana. I thought he might want to stay for today, but he said he just couldn't bear the thought. I've never seen him so shaken up. But what a thing for a sixteen-year-old boy to witness, for all of you…"

Albus had stopped listening to her. He couldn't believe it, right after Ariana—now they wouldn't even have a chance to fight for her, to give meaning to her death. First his mother, then his sweet, innocent sister, and now the boy, the boy like no other, the only person in the world who understood Albus, the beautiful talented young man who could have been Albus's partner for life as they made the world a better place. But he'd abandoned that dream, and he'd abandoned Albus.

"Gone," Albus said, staring at the muddy grass at his feet without really seeing it. "I can't believe it. I can't believe he's gone."

"YOU CAN'T BELIEVE _HE'S_ GONE?" The words exploded from Aberforth's mouth with a rage Albus had never seen in him before. "We're at our _sister's_ funeral and you're upset about _him_? Did you even care about her at all?"

"Aberforth—" Albus started to say, but Aberforth went on as though he could not hear him.

"Well I did!" he screamed. "You—you and him—you pretended to care but you never did! You're pathetic and you're a liar and you—YOU KILLED HER, ALBUS!"

Before anyone could move or stop him, Aberforth swung forward and punched Albus in the face. Albus felt his nose break and begin to gush blood, and he felt dozens of eyes on the pair of them as Aberforth stepped back, panting.

"You're finally free, Albus, just like you've always wanted. I hope you're happy!" And he bolted from the scene as murmurs began to creep up from the onlookers. Albus watched him go, feeling the blood dripping down his chin, no energy left in him even to repair it.

—

"Where did I pull you from?" Albus managed to ask later that night. Elphias had been kind enough not to bring up his trip since he'd returned, but with no desire to talk to him about Ariana, or Gellert—or anything, really—it would be easier for Albus to just let him launch into a story while his own mind drifted. Maybe he'd fall asleep while he was talking—Elf wouldn't get mad, not after today—but then again, maybe he'd lay awake long after Elphias had drifted off.

It was strange. They'd shared a bed often enough in the past few years—never at Hogwarts, where their dorm was shared by several other boys, but visiting one another over holidays, it had become the standard. It had never bothered Albus, had even comforted him, yet now it felt like there was a stranger in his bed. It was Albus who had insisted on it—Elphias had offered to sleep in the sitting room, guessing he might want to be alone, but Albus had refused to let him. Yet now here they were, and Albus's absolute knowledge that it was the wrong person next to him made the few inches between them feel like miles. He yearned in equal measure to expel Elphias from to the room...and to cling to him, to beg him for the blissful distraction that Elphias would surely grant him—that Elphias wanted to grant him. He thought of it, lying there while Elphias spoke in detail about his most recent adventure. What relief it would bring, to wipe his mind completely blank while his instincts and body took full control.

The temptation was too much to resist. He didn't care how wrong it was. Any way to stop this mad torture, the loss of Ariana, the flight of Gellert—whatever it took, Albus would do it.

"Elf?" he said, and Elphias stopped talking and turned to him.

"Hmm?"

Elphias's eyes were pale in the dim light. Albus thought of Gellert's, the brilliant shade of blue that no one else's could match. He shivered slightly, then closed his own eyes before leaning forward.

Usually they started slow, gentle, a minute or two before Albus opened his mouth. Not this time, though. This time, Albus was fierce from the start. He pressed his lips against Elphias's with an intensity he'd never managed before, and though Elphias didn't quite match his pace, he acquiesced. Encouraged, Albus scooted closer to him on the bed. His heart was racing as it had rarely done before. His nose, still broken, was tender, and hurt when he pressed his face to Elphias's, but that didn't matter. In fact, it was good. Every physical reaction in his body, everything that reminded him he was muscle and nerve endings—not thoughts and feelings—was a good thing. Kissing was not enough, touching of faces was not enough. His hands needed something to hold, flesh to squeeze, and here so conveniently was Elphias awaiting his arms.

Rather than a nightshirt, Elphias was wearing a pyjama set in some lavish, exotic material that he had undoubtedly picked up on his travels. It felt smooth and light beneath Albus's fingers, but he had no patience for it at the moment. Warm skin was what he craved, and he quickly found the buttons and scrambled to undo them.

Elphias's hands were at Albus's waist, slowly pulling up the fabric of his nightshirt. Albus could feel the hem of it crawling up to his knees, and his heart beat wildly at the thought of at last allowing Elphias to do what he'd never permitted him before. He managed to finish unbuttoning Elphias's pyjama shirt and ran his hands across the skin underneath.

He thought of how different it would be if he were in bed with Gellert. Involuntarily, he pressed harder against Elphias's mouth and clutched at the skin beneath his hands. Gellert wouldn't just encourage Albus, wouldn't slowly and gently pull up his clothing—he would take control. Whether he'd done it before or not, Albus didn't know—had been afraid to ask—but somehow he did know instinctively that even though he was a year and a half younger than Albus, Gellert would be the one leading. He'd throw Albus down on the bed and his strong hands would force clothing out of the way. Fabric would get ripped in the process, but neither of them would care. Albus would lie there and tremble as he stared hungrily at the face smiling down at him, the brilliant eyes and the playful lips that he longed to join his.

"Albus, stop," Gellert said.

No, not Gellert. The voice was wrong. Elphias. Elphias had pulled back from the kiss, Elphias was now looking at Albus seriously, sitting up in bed, reaching for his wand and igniting it so they could see each other better.

"What is it?" Albus said, looking at Elphias in confusion. It had been going so well, doing exactly what Albus had needed it to. The bottom of Albus's nightshirt was almost up to his waist, and he would have let Elphias touch him—would have let Elphias do whatever he wanted to him and done whatever he asked in return. They still could. The momentum had been lost, but they could get it right back, Albus was sure of it. "Why did you stop?"

"Albus, this is wrong," Elphias said.

Albus sat up as well and stared at him. "What do you mean, wrong? Elf, this is what you've wanted for ages."

"No," Elphias said, shaking his head. "It isn't, Albus. What I've wanted was you, but tonight...something's off, Albus. You're not yourself."

Albus shook his head too. "I don't understand," he said. "We're here, we're willing, I...I'm more than willing. God, Elf, please. I'm begging you, please."

"This is exactly what I mean," Elphias said, pushing the blanket aside and getting up from the bed. "It's wrong. You never beg me, Albus. You...I don't know what it is you want, but it's not anything I can give you."

Albus stared at him, transfixed. How did he know?

Sighing, Elphias climbed back onto the bed, on top of the covers this time, and crawled over to Albus to kiss him once more. "I'm sorry, Albus," he said, stroking his hair gently. "I can't imagine what you're going through. But this isn't a solution. I want to be with you, truly, but I want you to want me, and I just...I can feel it, I can tell that tonight, right now, you don't."

Albus put his arms around Elphias, who returned the hug warmly and did not let go until Albus did.

"Will you stay with me?" Albus whispered.

"Yes," Elphias whispered back, hand once again in Albus's hair.

They settled back down together, Elphias extinguishing his wand and rebuttoning his pyjamas while Albus rested his head against his chest. He wondered if he should tell Elphias about Gellert, but inwardly shook his head. Maybe he'd be heartbroken or maybe he'd be understanding, but it didn't feel right. Elphias still had this innocence about him that Albus could not bring himself to crush. So instead he lay there, Elphias's heart slowly beating against his cheek, letting the guilt overcome him.

—

Elphias was leaving the next morning after breakfast. He cooked for Albus and Aberforth and made no comments about the previous night. He did not show the slightest bit of resentment toward Albus for attempting to use him to relieve his grief, but treated him warmly. Albus reflected as he stirred his eggs around his plate that he would never in a million years deserve someone as devoted as Elf.

He hugged Albus goodbye before he left. "Please write me," he insisted, squeezing Albus's hand. "I need to know that you're doing all right."

Albus nodded, and Elphias gave a quick kiss to his cheek before nodding at Aberforth and stepping toward the door with a last "Goodbye."

Aberforth had not spoken all morning. Indeed, he had not spoken since the funeral yesterday. This was the first time he'd been in a room with Albus since he'd hit him. Now, they silently appraised each other.

"You didn't mend it," Aberforth commented.

"I know," Albus said. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I'm not sorry," Aberforth said defiantly.

"I know you're not."

Aberforth nodded toward the door that Elphias had just walked out of. "Why didn't you go with him?"

Albus stared blankly at his brother. "What?"

"You were going to at the beginning of the summer. Now you can. I thought you wanted to get away from this place. That was all you wanted. Why are you still here?"

Leaving with Elphias had not occurred to Albus for even a fraction of a second. As it now seemed the most logical thing to have done, Albus had to consider for a moment why this was. "I suppose it's just…" he said. "Well...if Gellert comes back—"

"Comes back?" Aberforth repeated in disbelief. "Comes back? Albus, how...twelve NEWTs, as many published essays and awards, and you still...you're so...Albus, he isn't coming back."

"He panicked," Albus said. "But we were in the middle...I'll write him again tonight, and maybe after he calms down a little—"

"HE PLAYED YOU!" Aberforth bellowed. "How do you not get that? How, in that big giant brain of yours—he was using you, Albus! He never loved you for a second! He knew you were all brilliant at magic and he wanted that on his side!"

"You don't mean that!" Albus said, backing away from his brother and shaking his head. "You still blame him for—you don't know—"

"Don't you tell me that I don't know!" Aberforth shouted. "I'm not telling you this to be cruel, Albus, I'm telling you because it's the truth, and I know you know it! You know it, Albus, you know it! You know that he took one look at you and saw you drooling over him and thought, 'here's someone I can play for a fool,' and that's exactly what he did, and you were so blinded by your own love that you couldn't see a damn thing. So you snogged a few times—you think that meant a single thing to him? You think he did it because he wanted to, because he liked it?"

"Stop!" Albus pleaded. "Aberforth, don't—"

"Our sister is dead!" Aberforth screamed. "She's dead because of the two of you, and you still think that you're going to ride off into the sunset together and everything's going to be all right when nothing is ever going to be all right again!"

At these words, a fleeting image came to Albus of he and Gellert coming upon the Resurrection Stone, using it to bring Ariana back. But the fantasy came crashing down around him as quickly as it had come—never had the thought of the Deathly Hallows seemed so unreachable. For the first time since hearing about Gellert's belief in them, Albus felt certain that they could not be real. Just as Gellert's feelings for Albus had never been real.

Albus turned away from his brother as his body began to shake. He took for the stairs before he even knew what he was doing.

As Albus entered his bedroom, his old school trunk crashed through the closet door to land at the foot of his bed without his even being aware of enchanting it. He didn't even need to move his wand, but his clothes and his books began to fly into it, pushing past each other to all make it first in. Spare parchment and quills zoomed out of the drawer of his nightstand to land on top of the jumble.

The trunk closed of its own accord less than a minute after it had opened, and Albus threw himself onto it, clutching his own elbows to try and calm the uncontrollable shaking in his body. He wasn't crying, but his breathing came in rasps that he soon came to realize he could not control. Why couldn't he stop it? It was going too fast—why couldn't he slow the pace? Albus had never hyperventilated before, and this lack of command over his own lungs terrified him, which only made the situation worse. He was going to die here in this room, Aberforth was going to have a third body to bury. Were there spells that helped you breathe? Potions?

 _Calming Draft!_ Albus thought desperately, but before he could move to fetch some, he remembered the dreadful time he'd forgotten to make it for Ariana. He thought of the twelve full bottles downstairs that she would never have the chance to drink.

And now the crying came. Heaving sobs that he felt sure would carry downstairs, though there would be no sympathy from his brother, who would naturally assume the tears were for Gellert, not their sister.

At last his breathing returned to normal, and Albus managed to climb back to his feet. He picked up one end of his trunk and dragged it toward the corridor, managing to get a glance of himself in the mirror as he passed. His face was redder than usual, but the new crooked shape of his nose stood out even more glaringly. _That's your tribute to your dead sister?_ He thought to himself. _To leave your nose broken?_

The tiny moment of self-loathing caused tears to fall again, but he ignored them, shook his head at the hateful voice, and left his bedroom.

Aberforth was still at the kitchen table. He was looking at the photo album again, as he'd done with Ariana after Kendra's death, and tears were sliding down his cheeks as well when he looked up at Albus. Albus watched him take in the trunk, but he did not ask.

"Goodbye, Aberforth," Albus said, surprised by the calm in his voice.

"Goodbye, Albus," Aberforth answered, matching his brother's tone of finality.

If either of them had been told in that moment that it would be over 50 years before they spoke again, their only surprise would be at the fact that they managed to reconcile at all. As Albus turned his back to head for the door, Aberforth's eyes slid to a photograph of a small girl who laughed delightedly as a brown and white goat ate feed from her hand.

6


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

It was the same room in the Leaky Cauldron that Albus had shared with Elphias. As he stared around at the place that had not changed a jot in two months, he thought of the concern he'd had that night. It seemed impossible. Had he really been worried—actually worried—about his relationship with Elf and how it might progress during the Grand Tour? What a thing to bother him!

Marveling at his own innocence, Albus opened his trunk and attempted to organize the mess within to find a nice pair of robes. Not dress robes, but well-tailored. He had a job interview tomorrow at Flourish and Blotts. Well hardly an interview—the shop's owner had essentially told him the job was his—but he wanted to look presentable nonetheless. He thought of going through some of his old books to refresh his memory, but couldn't muster the energy. He already knew them all anyway—practically by heart. And he was sure he'd just walk in and Mr Knight would fawn over his brilliance as adults always seemed to do, honored at the idea of having The Albus Dumbledore working in his shop. "Not stocking shelves, dear boy, certainly not! A young man with your talent!" Somehow the picture in his head brought him no joy.

Deciding to take an early night, Albus changed into his bedclothes and turned in. He climbed into the bed alone, trying not to remember the last time he'd been in it, and extinguished the lamps with his wand, keeping its tip alight for another moment. He lifted his right hand and inspected his palm in the wandlight. He put the wand tip closer to it and then farther away, flexed his hand, closed his fist and opened it again.

The Deathly Hallows symbol had faded away.

1


End file.
